


Wandering Stars

by softiee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Darth Vader's A+ parenting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Found Family, Imperial Luke Skywalker, Jedi Leia Organa, Kanan is a good dad, M/M, More like: enemies to reluctant allies to friends to lovers, Prince Luke Skywalker, Skywalker Family Drama, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softiee/pseuds/softiee
Summary: Prince Luke Amidala has lived his entire life under the overprotective shadow of his father, Darth Vader. During a simple relief mission to Lothal, that's more an excuse to get away from the Imperial Palace for a couple of days, he gets kidnapped by a group of Rebels. He now must face the truth that's his family's legacy, and conciliate the part of himself that can't help but fall for his greatest enemy: a Jedi.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 149
Kudos: 352





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! Over the past month I fell in love with the Imperial Prince Luke trope so much, I couldn't help but make my own au. This is also a skybridger fic which honestly, why is this such a rarepair?? It's so unfair :( 
> 
> Some basics for the story.  
> This story starts when Luke, Ezra and Leia all have 21 years old, but none of the events of ANH, or season 4 of Rebels have happened. It's all basically until the point when Obi Wan kills Maul. So Kanan is alive and well, and Ezra and Thrawn are not playing jungle adventure on Wild Space. I bumped up the ages of the characters because I'm not that comfortable writing teenagers tbh. Also, Leia grew up with Obi Wan, not the Organas, because fuck yeah Jedi Leia. 
> 
> That's all for now, enjoy!!!

The sound of blaster fire and screams woke him up suddenly from his dream. Alarmed, Luke jumped off his bunk and looked around his quarters, disorientated. He instinctively reached out in the Force, and the chaotic distress of several sentients sent him back recoiling. He shook the last remains of sleep from his mind and decided that he couldn't stay hidden on his room. Moving quickly, he got dressed. Luke adjusted his black boots over his sore ankles and hid his lightsaber deep under the gold lining of his white cape. It wasn't a good ensemble to blend in, but he didn't have time for anything else. 

He reached for his comm-link, that had been beeping insistently for several minutes. He had at least ten urgent messages from the crew announcing intruders on the ship and requesting backup. 

Luke swore under his breath. It was supposed to be an easy relief mission! Nothing too complicated, just an excuse to get away from his overbearing father. It had been months since he had been able to avoid him, trapped on the Imperial Palace between political dinners, his combat training and military education. Delivering medical supplies to the troops on Lothal had been the perfect excuse to get away from Lord Vader and his insufferable overprotective nature. But now, getting ambushed in the middle of a relief mission? He would never hear the end of it. Luke would be lucky if his father ever let him out of Coruscant in the next year. 

With his blaster raised in front of him, Luke walked out of his quarters and walked down the corridor towards the turbolifts that would take him to the bridge. He found several unconscious troopers on his way, some severely injured, and some dead. His heart clenched inside his chest: it was a possibility the attack was a kidnap or even assassination attempt, and those troopers had paid the price of serving under him. He just hoped Agent Kallus and the rest of the crew would be able to hold off the intruders. 

As he entered the turbolift, he wondered who he would have to deal with. Pirates? Rebels? Bounty hunters? An insurgent Imperial faction? Luke knew that those most loyal to Tarkin had been very unhappy with his father recently. An attack on Vader's son would be a bold move, but an effective one if what they wanted to achieve was unrest. Luke just had to make sure to frustrate their plans. 

The doors opened and revealed the chaos that was the bridge. The Captain and his crew were tied up and hopefully unconscious behind the control panels, while an angry looking Lasat pointed a gun at them. A Mandalorian woman worked the controls with quick fingers, and a young human male had Agent Kallus cornered with… was that a green lightsaber? 

The man was a Jedi! The intruders were Rebels! 

As Luke reached this conclusion, all three Rebels turned to face him. They quickly pointed their guns at him, and the Jedi forced Luke’s blaster out of his hands with the Force. 

The Mandalorian woman was the first one to fire, and Luke dodged the blast easily. The Lasat started to advance towards him, and then abruptly stopped.

"Wait! Sabine, look who it is!" 

The woman didn't stop firing, but she seemed to recognize him. 

"Well, well, well," she said with clear aversion in her voice, "if it isn't his Imperial Highness..." 

Luke raised an eyebrow, and jumped behind a glass panel to shield himself from the blasts. 

"A pleasure," Luke answered with his most obnoxious Core accent, "and your name is…?" 

A blast came painfully close to his shoulder.

"None of your business." 

"Sabine!" the Lasat insisted, "Stop, he's more valuable to us alive." 

So it wasn't a kidnapping. It was evident that they had no idea Luke would be on board. They only wanted to steal from them, probably take the medical supplies to their Rebel base. 

"Why is he valuable?" asked the Jedi. "He's just some rich guy." 

Luke almost felt offended. The Mandalorian laughed, and finally stopped firing.

"Oh Ezra, he's not just _some guy_. I present to you, Luke Amidala of Naboo," she said mockingly, "Imperial Prince and Heir of the Galactic Throne." 

The Jedi at least had the decency to look impressed, Luke would give him that. He seemed to reach some kind of conclusion, turned around to Agent Kallus, who was limping pathetically behind him, and threw him in the air with a Force blast. Kallus landed painfully into the ground and didn't move anymore. 

"I'm betting the Empire will pay big money for their little decorative doll," said the Lasat as he cracked his knuckles. Luke resisted the need to roll his eyes. 

The Jedi turned to them, and pointed his lightsaber at Luke. 

"Surrender, your Highness," he said. "We have you three to one." 

"Then it's a fair fight," replied Luke as calmly as he could pretend to be. 

He didn't give them time to think of a response. He jumped high and rolled in the air, dodging blaster fire from the Mandalorian and the Lasat and landed in front of the Jedi. He raised his lightsaber to defend himself, but Luke was quicker: he kicked him in the center of his chest, hard, and the Jedi fell to his knees completely out of breath. Luke used his opportunity to kick him again, this time on his right wrist, which made him instinctively open his palm and drop his saber. 

"Ezra!" screamed the Mandalorian, but didn't fire against them, probably afraid to hit his friend. 

The Lasat growled angrily, and ran towards them, but he wasn't quick enough. Luke reached for the Jedi's lightsaber with the Force, and then jumped again, this time landing behind the Jedi's back. He ignited the blade, hissing under his fist, reached for the Jedi's black hair and dragged him up to his feet. 

Luke put the saber's blade centimeters away from the Jedi's throat. This close to him, he noticed several things. The man must have been around his age, on his early twenties. He was taller than him by approximately five centimeters. His deep tan skin reflected the green light of his saber, and his elaborated breathing revealed his distress. This was not a man who was used to losing a fight. 

The Last and the Mandalorian women stood frozen, too afraid to make a false move and provoke a harsh reaction. 

"Put down your weapons," ordered Luke. 

The Rebels seemed unwilling, but a slow nod from their Jedi friend made them comply. They lowered their blasters into the ground slowly, glaring daggers at Luke. 

"Now," he continued, "your comms-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. There was a sudden movement behind his back, a very loud CLACK, and then everything faded into darkness.

***

_"Kallus_ is Fulcrum?" scoffed Kanan, incredulous. Ezra sighed. 

"Yes, I didn't want to believe it either. But he saved my life, and committed high treason by knocking the living daylight out of the Imperial Prince…" 

"You're welcome," hissed Kallus from his seat at the cargo hold inside the Ghost. Beside him stood Sabine pointing at him with her blasters. She seemed very reluctant to trust him. Hera was helping him with his injuries, but she didn't seem very concerned with being gentle.

Zeb was very purposefully not looking at them, instead he busied himself by tying the Prince to a pipe. 

"-and he gave us the intel about the medical supplies," finished Ezra. "We just have to deal with the fact that Kallus is a Rebel now."

The man in question simply dignified himself by rolling his eyes. 

Kanan sighed, and rolled the foreign lightsaber into his palms. The one they had extracted from inside the Prince's robes. Ezra eyed him curiously, and Kanan ignited the blade. 

Bright, furious red illuminated the entire cargo hold. 

"That's going to be a problem," declared Hera as she stood up. Kanan nodded in agreement and turned off the red lightsaber. 

"How are we going to retain him?" asked Ezra. "You guys saw how fast he moved, and I sensed him. He's _really_ strong in the Force. Some rope won't stop him." 

Hera crossed her arms and shook her head. "This is why we don't do stuff like this. We don't kidnap people, we're not pirates." 

Zeb huffed, offended. 

"What were we supposed to do, leave him there? He probably has tons of information that’s invaluable to our cause!" 

"Maybe not anymore, Kallus almost cracked his head open-" said Ezra under his breath.

"He's not a droid, Zeb," scolded him Hera, "he's a person, and a _very_ public one at that." 

"Oh don't tell me you empathize with His Royal Brattiness," said Sabine, exasperated. 

Hera turned to her, getting angrier by the minute. 

"I don't. But I also don't want the entire Imperial Navy on our tail, looking for him!" 

"Nobody saw us, and besides-" 

"What about all the stormtroopers left on board-?"

"That's enough," commanded Kanan. Everyone turned to him, startled, ending the argument. "The fact remains that he's a trained Force sensitive and he was able to overpower Ezra really easily. We won't be able to contain him once he wakes up." 

"Not that easily…" protested Ezra.

Sabine looked nervously at Kanan, and cleared her throat. He raised an eyebrow in question. 

"I… might have a solution." 

She walked to the cargo compartments and opened the one she used to store her weapons, ammo, and some of her engineering projects. After revolving inside, she extracted a pair of thick durasteel shackles, and showed them off proudly to the rest of the group.

Ezra recognized the design immediately.

"Force restricting handcuffs?" he exclaimed, insulted. Sabine glared at him.

"I'm sorry, ok? But after that whole mess will Maul I couldn't let us be unprepared again." 

Ezra crossed his arms, annoyed. He didn't need a reminder of that whole ordeal. Kanan's eyes, his lack of vision, were a constant reminder of his failure. Of his weakness. 

"They're useful now," said Kanan, placid. Sabine handed them to him in silence. 

They all turned to look at their prisoner. Zeb had finished putting a bacta patch on the back of his head where Kallus had hit him. Lying unconscious, plopped against the wall of the cargo hold like a rag doll, he looked far younger than he was. Sabine had said he was the same age as Ezra, and as old as the Empire itself. But his bright blond hair, his smooth pale skin, and his expensive, spotless white and gold designer clothes all spoke of the privilege of someone with the time and resources to carefully plan and take care of their appearance. The sharp contrast of a polished spoiled Imperial prince with the highly skilled warrior who had quickly and efficiently overpowered him puzzled Ezra. Specially with the discovery of his red lightsaber. Ezra thought that only Inquisitors and Sith like Maul or Vader wielded red blades. But his Force presence hadn't been dark. Even now, unconscious and prisoner on their ship, his Force signature was firmly placed in the Light. Maybe he had trained with the Inquisitors? When Prince Amidala had taken his own saber and held it to his throat, it had been done with the confidence of someone with years of hard training on lightsaber combat. Ezra had no doubt in his mind that he could be deadly with it. 

Sabine cuffed their prisoner with her Force restraining handcuffs, fussed with his white and gold cape, and quickly stood up. Ezra was sure he saw a flash of gold in the direction of her pockets.

"Sabine…" scolded Hera, unamused. Sabine rolled her eyes and showed the handful of gold credits she had stolen from their prisoner. Zeb roared with laughter. 

"What?" Sabine defended herself, "it's not like he's going to miss them." 

She saved the credits back into her pocket and with that, she climbed the ladder in the direction of the cockpit. Hera sighed tiredly, but didn't argue any further. 

Ezra turned to Kanan. 

"What are we going to do with him, then?" 

Hera and Kanan looked at each other for a long minute, having an entire conversation in silence. They seemed to reach some kind of agreement, because Kanan handled Hera the Prince's lightsaber. She clipped it on her belt in her jumpsuit, and without adding anything else, climbed the ladder to the cockpit where Sabine had disappeared. 

Kanan sat in a box alongside Ezra, facing their prisoner but keeping an eye on Kallus at the same time. 

"We'll take him to Rebel Command. He probably has information that can be very useful." 

"If I may…" intervened Kallus, and they all turned to face him. The only one who didn't stare at him with open hostility was Zeb. "Prince Amidala has the access to clearance codes equivalent to a Grand Admiral. Even if he doesn't personally have the information we need, the Alliance could slice into the Imperial network with his codes." 

Zeb nodded enthusiastically. 

"That's a great idea." 

Kallus and Zeb stared at each other for a second, and Ezra felt weirdly uncomfortable. 

"Alright then." Ezra stood up from his box and walked on the direction of the ship's kitchen. "Kanan, are you taking the first watch?" 

His Master nodded solemnly and offered him a kind smile. 

"Yes. Get some rest. I'll wake you up in a couple of hours." 

***

Waking up felt like trying to swim in bacta: incredibly tedious and annoyingly painful. Luke's head was killing him, he hadn't had a headache that strong since that one time he tried to jump from one of the towers at the Imperial Palace to another one and failed. Very slowly he tried to open his eyes, and he was greeted with the calm obscurity of a cell. He tried to cover his eyes with his hands, but was stopped by the handcuffs that surrounded his wrists. 

Frowning, Luke sat up with his legs crossed. His head pounded with pain, and Luke took a couple of deep breaths. He felt isolated and cold. Like he had suddenly gone blind, or lost a limb and couldn't shake off the phantom pain. 

He had been cut off from the Force. He had been imprisoned with Force restraining handcuffs. 

But not completely. His superficial connection to it had been blocked, but the roots of the connection could never be severed completely. Like a dam containing a river, he just had to find an alternative route downstream. 

Luke closed his eyes again and started his meditation routine. He counted backwards from a hundred. He pictured the green pastoral hills of Naboo. He imagined the moisture of water droplets on his fingertips. He took deep breaths and imagined the air particles circling around his lungs, through his veins and all throughout his body, carrying energy and oxygen. He repeated the process three times. 

The Force greeted him like the first rays of sunshine after the longest night of winter, warming up his insides. Luke greedily plunged into its depths like a starving man. The connection was faint, and it took all if his concentration to solidify it. 

Luke considered his options, and decided he would use it to heal himself. He searched inwards, and found the source of his pain. Slowly and carefully he released most of it into the Force, washing away the tension from his body. But he didn't let go of all of it. Pain was a resource, one that could be shaped into a weapon. He hated using the Dark on his favor. It was easier to dominate and it promised power, but it always seemed like the price was too high to be worth the effort. But he was a prisoner of war, and desperate times called for desperate measures.

He harvested that small flame of pain and hid it on the back of his mind. Then, he focused on trying to understand his surroundings. 

In normal circumstances, he was able to reach out into the living Force and know how many sentients were around him, in what direction, and if he concentrated enough, what where they feeling. But at that moment the only thing he was able to perceive was the very faint presence of a guard behind the door of his cell. 

Several hours passed, and Luke spent most of them meditating and regaining as much strength as he could muster. Someone had brought him food rations at some point, and he ate them without much fuss. He wasn’t used to the sandy flavor, and he yearned for a nice meal from back home. His grandmother always made the best roasted shaak stake back on Naboo, the times he had been allowed to visit the Naberries. The exuberant banquets the Emperor held on the Imperial Palace, with hundreds of foods, drinks and sweets from all over the Galaxy had always seemed excessive to Luke. It was never about the act of sharing a meal, but a show of power and greed. 

The sound of his cell door opening startled him. The guard entered with heavy steps. 

"Get up," he ordered. "And turn around." 

Seeing no reason to protest, Luke did as he was told. He was, after all, a very well behaved boy, as much as his father liked to argue otherwise. The guard tied a heavy piece of cloth around his eyes, completely obstructing his vision. 

“Follow me,” instructed the guard, grabbing him by the elbow, and Luke obeyed. He knew of diplomacy, and if the Rebel Alliance planned on using him as leverage, he would give as little ground as possible. He would not give them an excuse to mistreat him. 

The guard took him through several corridors, and Luke did his best to keep his chin high as he sensed the stares -some openly hostile- of the Rebels they encountered on their way. After twenty years he would have thought himself used to the attention, but Luke had never felt comfortable in the spotlight. 

He was put inside a spacious room with two chairs and a single table. The guard took his handcuffs and locked them to an extension of chain in the center of the table, and then undid his blindfold. With a sigh, Luke sat in one chair with as much dignity as he could. 

The door resounded with vigor behind the guard’s back as he left the room. Lucky for him, Luke didn’t have to wait alone for much longer. 

Another door in the other side of the room opened and a middle aged woman, of short hair and polished white robes, entered. She had an aura of authority and class around her, and after a couple of seconds of introspection Luke recognized her as Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila. She carefully took a seat in the other chair in front of Luke, and greeted him with a respectful nod. After a second, he did the same. 

“Prince Amidala,” she said with practiced serenity, “it’s an honor to finally meet you.” 

Luke smiled coldly. “I wish I could say the same, Senator.” 

She studied him for a minute, then returned the smile. 

“Yes, the circumstances are less than ideal. However, I sincerely hope we can reach a mutually beneficial agreement.” 

For a second, Luke allowed himself to rage internally against his restraints. He wished he could submerge himself in the Force and read her intentions clearly. He hated politicians, their ever changing snake like skins, their twisted words filled with double or even triple intentions. 

“Where am I?” he demanded.

Senator Mothma crossed her hands in the table. 

“I’m afraid that information is classified.” 

Luke raised his eyebrows. A Rebel base then, probably a very important one. 

“Whatever you expect to get out of this,” said Luke faking irritation, “you won’t get it. The Empire doesn’t negotiate with terrorists.”

The Senator didn’t give in at the provocation.

“It’s a good thing we’re not terrorists, then.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “Whatever ransom you’re expecting, whatever information you could possibly want to trade in exchange for my freedom, you won’t get it.”

He didn’t hope to intimidate the woman, he knew her to be smarter than that. But he was telling the truth: the Emperor would rather have him rot in a cell for the rest of eternity than to bend at the will of a rebel senator. His father, on the other hand… Vader was capable of scorching entire planets into the ground if that meant to get his son back to his side. Luke would rather avoid a massacre. 

Mon Mothma studied him with her eyes. 

"What would _you_ trade in exchange for your freedom, then?" 

***

Ezra observed from the one sided window to the interrogation room as Kanan and Kallus entered. Prince Luke Amidala was sitting like a tooka on his chair, his back rigid and his shining blue eyes tracking every movement around him. His disheveled hair and his rumpled clothes where the only things betraying his regal appearance. Kanan walked up to him with his palm extended in the air. 

"You _will_ tell us your clearance codes." 

The Prince raised a single eyebrow, unbothered. Kallus crossed his arms and shook his head. Kanan sighed. 

"It was worth a try." 

Next to Ezra, Sabine laughed. "Has that trick ever worked for Kanan?" 

"With some stormtroopers," he answered her. "It never works with Force sensitive beings."

Kallus sat in front of the Prince, frowning menacingly. It was almost imperceptible, but Ezra saw Amidala recoil away from him. The wound on the back of his head had to be a painful one, and the man responsible was in front of him. 

"If you want to see the light of the day again, you will give us your access codes," gritted Kallus through his teeth.

Luke Amidala seemed strangely amused. 

"And why would I do that, Agent Kallus? Between the two of us, I have a lot less to lose by remaining silent," he glanced his eyes between the two men in front of him. "These people don't trust you, and you know exactly how the Empire deals with traitors. I don't fear you, Alexsandr Kallus." 

Ezra thought the man had a point. Kallus had saved his life, and he risked everything by giving them information through the Fulcrum alias. But he couldn’t just forget the massacre on Lasan, or his numeros crimes against the people of Lothal. In the eyes of the Rebellion, he could very easily be a double agent. 

Kallus inhaled furiously, but before he could answer, Kanan intervened. 

"And what _do_ you fear, your Majesty?" he walked around the table and rested his hands in the back of Amidala's chair. "The wrath of your Master, perhaps?" 

It was very subtle, but Ezra had been trained to pick up on those changes. The Prince’s faint presence in the Force hardened like durasteel. His eyes wandered into the wall, unseeing. His respiration skipped a single breath. Then, he relaxed.

“I don’t answer to anyone by that title,” he said. 

Kanan made eye contact with Ezra through the glass. From inside the room, it was only a mirror. It had been years since the incident, but Ezra still got slightly creeped out by Kanan’s ability to see through solid matter like it was transparent. He had explained that he used the Force to see, and Ezra imagined it was like sensing others in the living Force, but ten times more powerful. It was still weird. 

The Prince had no Master. Why did he wield a red lightsaber then? Who had trained him on the ways of the Force? He didn’t look like an Inquisitor, he didn’t dress their uniform, and his saber was not double bladed. 

“Is that so?” continued Kanan. “Have the Sith changed their titles, then? Or has Vader not deemed you worthy enough of calling you apprentice?”

Prince Amidala visibly flinched at the mention of Darth Vader. Ezra felt the room’s temperature drop a couple of degrees, getting the tip of his fingers cold. Like the sole mention of his name could cast a spell of darkness. 

“Is he Palpatine’s son?” asked Ezra, theorizing. It was evident that the Prince was afraid of Vader. Until a couple of days ago, Ezra though Vader was the heir to the throne. It was possible the Prince’s existence was a threat to Vader’s desire for power. 

Sabine laughed so hard she almost choked on air. Ezra crossed his arms defensively.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I’m not really up to date on celebrity gossip, you know.” 

She took several breaths, trying to regain composure. 

“I’m sorry,” said Sabine, still between laughs. “It’s just the idea of _anyone_ getting it on with Palpatine it’s hilarious!”

Ezra had to admit, it was repulsive. 

“He’s not,” she continued. “He’s the son of Queen Amidala of Naboo. That’s Palpatine’s home planet. He was appointed heir and Imperial Prince like ten years ago. It was all over the holonet!”

That would explain why he had no idea, thought Ezra. He was homeless back then, more concentrated on scraping whatever he could to survive than keeping up with the news on the Royal family. 

“How do you know so much about it anyway,” defended himself Ezra. “I didn’t think you cared about any of that.”

Sabine sighed, exasperated. “The Imperial Academy. They really shoved the propaganda down our throats.” 

A loud sound coming from the interrogation room startled them both. They turned to watch as Kallus slammed his fists on the table, hovering with his face inches away from the Prince. Kanan was trying to hold him back, but without much effort. 

“Have you got no soul?” roared Kallus. He seemed to be really upset. “How can you stand by and do _nothing_? How can you sleep comfortably knowing the system that feeds you enslaves millions? How can you waste your days parading yourself uselessly on Coruscant, shaking hands and sharing dinners with Moffs and Admirals, knowing the atrocities they are responsible for? How can you live with yourself, knowing your life has no real value?” 

Prince Amidala was stunned. His face was pale and his hands had a small tremor to them. After struggling for a minute, Kanan was able to move Kallus back into his chair. He took a deep breath, and Ezra felt him releasing his own frustration into the Force. Kanan turned around to face the Prince. He opened his mouth to talk, but Amidala beat him to it.

“If I share with you information, do you promise to set me free?” he said quietly. Ezra had to force his own hearing to be able to catch his words. “Unconditionally?” 

Kanan scratched his beard, thoughtful. 

“What kind of information are you offering?”

A long minute of silence passed between them. The Prince seemed to be wrestling with an idea. Ezra thought he looked almost angelic, sitting in perfect silence, wrapped in his white clothes, his eyes shining with emotion. He blinked a couple of times, raised his chin high, and faced Kanan straight on. 

“Information about Project Stardust.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I hope to update sometime next week. In the meantime, come scream at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/softieskywalker) or [tumblr](https://softieskywalker.tumblr.com/).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thanks everyone for the kind comments and kudos! I'm glad you're all enjoying this story.

The black marble floors on the briefing room of the Imperial Palace trembled and cracked, as if an earthquake was shaking the ground from underneath. Several windows exploded into a million particles, sending shards and dust flying to the gardens down below. The poor imperial officer assigned with the task of informing Lord Vader of the recent developments flew through the air and collapsed into the ground, his entire body flopping like a rag doll. 

Darth Vader observed him take his last breaths with blinding rage, his entire body pulsing with dark energy like a black hole. All light inside the room vanished, and the air grew so cold that the water inside the glasses on the conference table started to crystallize. His mechanical hands curled into fists so tightly, he felt several mechanisms pop out of their place and bend. 

Luke was missing. 

_His son!_ His beloved and wonderful son, his most proudest achievement, the shining jewel on his empire of glory, was missing. He had been taken hostage and disappeared from the face of the galaxy. Vader _knew_ something like this would happen, there was a reason why he didn't allow Luke outside of Imperial Center without supervision. But his son had insisted for weeks, demanding space and independence. And after twenty years, Vader had felt that tolerating the small relief mission to a heavily controlled system was better than dealing with the consequences of denying his son his wishes of independence. 

Now, he would trade a hundred temper tantrums and a million days of cold indifference over this. 

With a flick of his wrist, he activated his comm. After a few seconds, a nervous looking officer appeared in the holo communicator. 

“Make a report for the Imperial Navy. Number one priority is now to find the missing Prince and bring him back to the palace, _alive_ and _unharmed_. I won’t tolerate anything less.”

The officer nodded several times and typed down the details on his datapad. 

“Anything else, sir?” 

“Inform the 501st of my imminent arrival. We’re sailing to the Lothal system immediately.”

“Yes sir.”

Vader cut the communication without adding anything else. With hurried steps he walked out of the briefing room in the direction of the hangar. His mind was a storm of fury and lightning. His entire life’s purpose was to make sure his son was safe. What would his wife think of him, if she was alive? A failure, a poor excuse of a father and protector. He had failed to protect her, to keep her by his side. 

Vader would not fail their son. He would find the people responsible for this, and he would make them _pay_. He would search land, sea and skies for Luke. There wouldn't be a single rock in the entire galaxy left unturned. Vader would find his son at all costs. 

***

Ezra loaded the last crate of supplies into the cargo hold of the Ghost and sighed, exhausted. He craved a long, hot shower, and maybe a warm meal. A nap would also be welcomed. His back was killing him. 

“Stop complaining and help me run a diagnostic on the engines,” said Hera, walking up the ramp. Ezra resisted the urge to growl. 

“Can’t Sabine help you with that? She knows a lot more about mechanics than any of us!” 

Hera urged him to stand up with a gentle tap on his shoulder. 

“If you want to learn instead of always depending on Sabine, come and do what you’re told.” 

Resigned, Ezra followed her into the ship and to the cockpit. Hera sat on the pilot seat and started to run down the diagnostics, explaining in detail the step by step process to Ezra. After an hour of back and forth with the main computer and adjusting some settings manually, she declared the maintenance work done for the day. 

“Finally,” groaned Ezra, stretching his legs and reclining over the co-pilot seat. "Can I please go to eat something now, mom?" 

Hera smiled, charmed with his antics, and nodded. But Ezra didn’t get up from his seat, he just stared through the glass into the distance. She watched him stretch his arms above his head and barely contain a jawn. 

"Something on your mind?" she inquired.

Ezra scratched his head absently. 

“I guess I’m worried about the mission,” he answered, contemplative. Hera turned off the engines of the Ghost and followed his line of vision, observing the open hangar of the Yavin IV base. Several pilots were doing maintenance work to their ships, taking cargo from one place to another, and chatting among themselves. The Rebel base was alive and full with activity. 

“Well, we’re taking every precaution necessary,” she tried reassuring him. “We’ve been to more dangerous missions that this one, Ezra. Besides, it’s just data extraction.”

He studied her for a minute. 

“I know. It’s just… Something feels off.”

Hera frowned and crossed her arms on her chest. “Are you worried the information Prince Amidala gave us it’s false?” 

"Not false, just– inaccurate." 

Ezra was having a hard time believing the Empire would waste such an enormous amount of resources building a space station the size of a small moon, only to hide a weapon inside. 

Hera considered his words. "Kanan said he was telling the truth. Do you think he could have tricked him?" 

She didn't sound very convinced, as if deceiving Kanan was an impossible task. Ezra shook his head slowly. The Force had sung the truth of Amidala's words as he had spoken them. The information he had given them was what he believed to be true. 

"No. I think he told us what he knew. But I don't think he has the full picture either."

Hera stood up from her seat and walked around the cabin, dragging her feet on the ground, turning his words over her head. The lightsaber that hung from her belt caught a light that was coming from the windows and reflected on Ezra's eyes. He remembered suddenly that their prisoner was highly trained, and that perhaps he _could_ have manipulated the Force and made them believe his words to a tea. But for that to be true, he should be able to trick both Ezra and Kanan at the same time, and not leave any traces of manipulation behind. And he should be able to do that while wearing Force restricting handcuffs. No, it was highly unlikely. 

Frustrated, Hera walked out of the cockpit. Ezra hurried to follow behind her. 

"What exactly is what makes you think it's a trick?" she said, resuming their conversation. "I've thought about it, and an operation of that size couldn't have slipped under our radar. But again, so many other things add up! The giant kyber crystal you and Saw Guerrera found, the increase on slave trading, the destruction of Geonosis..." She suddenly stopped, struck by a horrifying thought. "Maybe that was even a test run!"

Ezra remembered the barren deserts of Geonosis. He remembered Klik-Klak and his desperate attempt to protect the last remains of his species. 

"But that's exactly what I don't understand," he muttered. "Why a planet killing weapon? What could possibly gain the Empire by destroying an _entire_ planet?" 

Hera observed him for a full minute, her expression turning desolate. 

"Nothing, Ezra. That's the point," she let out a long breath. "They destroy what they can't conquer. This is the ultimate goal: to govern through fear, or face extinction." 

Her words echoed through his mind, like a tidal wave of unforgiving destruction. He contemplated Hera, the strong and compassionate woman who had taken him under her wing and raised him almost as his own. He liked to joke about it, but almost ten years later, she was as good as a second mother to him. When she spoke like this, so hopeless and filled with despair, Ezra could feel his heart shrinking on itself. 

"I thought the Empire only did things to maximize profits." 

Hera shook her head. She gently put her arm around his shoulders and guided him through the hangar in the direction of the communal kitchens. She was shorter than him by at least ten centimeters, but that never stopped her from guiding him or expressing affection. 

"It's not that simple. An Empire is a power structure where a single person holds all the power."

Ezra wanted to roll his eyes. "I know that–"

"–And that includes the lives of the people they have power over," she continued nonetheless. "Being an Emperor doesn't mean you're a government of one person. It means you're the _only_ _person_ who has power to govern, and that has control over their own life. Everyone else –and their lives– belong to him." 

Ezra thought of Prince Luke Amidala, of his delicate and expensive clothes, of his fancy core accent and pompous way of speaking, very similar to politicians like Mon Mothma and Bail Organa. He thought of his life in a palace, surrounded by riches and delights Ezra couldn't even begin to imagine. He thought of himself and his own childhood, risking his neck every day to scrap enough food and water to survive. He thought of the people on Lothal who risked their necks giving him fruit or a cup of water every time the Empire looked away. He remembered the way Prince Amidala had flinched at Kanan's mention of a Master, and Ezra theorized that for all his expensive comforts, he probably had never known freedom the way Ezra and his family had. 

"So, it's just a power move. Making a weapon capable of wiping out entire civilizations, just because you can?" 

Hera gazed sadly at him. "Terror, Ezra. Terror is just another tool for power. Can you honestly expect people to challenge authority if the threat of genocide hangs above their heads?" 

_No_ , reasoned Ezra. It was one thing to ask people to rebel against the oppressive force of the Empire and face eventual imprisonment, but to face extinction? Unexpectedly, the threat had become a million times more real. What would happen if the Empire discovered where their base was located? They wouldn’t send troops to attack them, they wouldn’t have a chance to defend themselves. No, they could simply eliminate the planet they were standing on. 

The mission, this mission, had suddenly become the most important mission they had ever had. If the Empire had already built a battle station capable of destroying entire celestial bodies, they had to take whatever chance they had of destroying it. This mission wasn’t just to gain advantage over the enemy, it wasn’t just about rebelling against a tyrannical government. It was about preserving life itself, before it was too late. 

They entered the communal kitchen and dining room in silence, feeling the weight of their conversation lingering above them. Ezra felt restless, and painfully aware of his surroundings. The Rebel base was very bright and busy in the Force, and he could feel the gentle embrace of life all around him. But everyone there –his friends, his family, his allies, all the rebels on base– could simply disappear in an instant. All their plans, their ideas, their future could be gone. Would they get a warning, if something like that were to happen? If this battle station fired at their base, would they have time to evacuate? Would they see the deadly laser appear on their sky, or would it be instantaneous? Could they possibly prevent a fate like that? 

They ate in silence for several minutes, taking comfort in the presence of the other. Ezra had always admired Hera, her intelligence and wit, her sheer courage and revolutionary ideals. He knew she had grown up in a world devastated by war and injustice, and that her people were very often subjects of oppression. She knew what defying authority meant. But in that moment, Ezra only felt afraid. The threat of losing her –or any of them, really– because of their ideas, was stronger than ever. 

It was only when Kanan and Zeb joined them on their table that Ezra suddenly remembered that he wasn’t alone to those fears. As he watched them chat among themselves and with Hera, discussed and updating them on what the Council had decided for their mission, he thought of Lasan, and Zeb’s belief for years that he had been the last of his species. He thought of Kanan, and how he guarded every Jedi relic with his life, the last remains of a culture wiped out decades ago. How Ezra himself was an heir of that legacy, even if he hadn’t been alive to witness it on its full glory. And as he remembered those things, he understood Kanan’s eagerness to volunteer the Ghost crew to the mission on Scarif. It wasn’t because they were the most capable team on base –which was debatable–, or because they were responsible for the presence of the Imperial Prince and they should be the ones dealing with that problem, no. It was because nobody would understand the sensibility and importance of this mission like them. 

  
***  
  


Luke walked up the ramp to the ship with careful steps. He still had his hands tied behind his back, but at this point, after a week of unresisting capture, it felt more like a formality. An orange astromech droid rolled up the ramp and bumped into him. 

“Oh, sorry,” said Luke. The droid answered very rudely and rolled away. 

A low laugh resounded behind him. Luke turned around as the Jedi Master –Kanan Jarrus, as he had learned– entered the ship. 

“That’s Chopper. He’s the meanest droid I’ve ever met.” 

“And a useless waste of parts,” added Garazeb Orrelios, the Lasat, who was sitting on a cargo crate eating very messily from a paper plate. The droid beeped indignantly at him, and suggested exactly where he could insert his cutlery.

Luke raised an eyebrow, amused. 

It seemed that Kanan was the last person to aboard the ship, because he closed the ramp behind him. Then, he approached Luke and carefully undid his handcuffs. 

The Lasat made a show of grabbing his gun from his back. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Kanan?” 

But the Jedi ignored him. 

“He won’t attack us,” said Kanan, and the kindness of his words brushed against Luke like the whisper of a summer breeze. Garazeb didn’t look very convinced. 

The truth was, Luke could try and escape. He could ran out, steal a ship, and return to his insufferable life on Coruscant. But he had given his word that he would help them acquire the plans to Project Stardust, and after that he would earn his freedom. He could take the opportunity and just flee, but that wasn't who he was. He was a man of his word. He knew first hand how it felt when people failed to keep their promises. Besides, any opportunity to ruin Grand Moff Tarkin's ambitions of power was an opportunity that should not go to waste. 

Kanan took a travel bag from the ground and offered it to Luke.

"Here," he said. "I gathered some things for you. You can take a shower if you want." 

Luke took the bag and examined it's contents. Inside he found all the clothes that he had packed for the trip, an extra grey jumpsuit, a toothbrush, a towel and extra toiletries. The rest of his stuff –his comm, his datapad, his lightsaber– had all been confiscated, but that was to be expected. 

"Thank you," he whispered, and couldn't help but ask: "Where did you get this?" 

"We took everything of value from that imperial transport. I found your things lost between the medical kits and figured you could need them on this mission." 

Luke found himself incapable of mustering an answer. Kanan, as unpredictable as he was, was proving himself far kinder than any other adversary Luke had ever faced. It puzzled him to no end. 

"Go, get a shower and get ready. We're briefing the crew on the main hold in an hour." 

And with that, he disappeared up the ladder and into the ship's corridors. Luke turned to Garazeb, who looked very unhappy to be left alone with him. 

"C'mon kid, I'll show you where the refresher is," he said with clear resignation on his voice. 

Luke followed him without protest. As they made their way through the ship, he felt them gaining altitude from the ground, until he felt the unmistakable pull of the Force as they entered hyperspace. 

After a very well needed sonic shower, Luke changed into the most adequate clothes he could find on his bag. He slipped into a pair of black linen pants with his black combat boots, a gray high collar undershirt, and an olive green wrap and cape ensemble that reached his navel at the front, wrapped around his arms and extended to the floor on the back. It was a shame he would have to leave most of this clothes at the bottom of the bag, if he wanted to blend in with the rest of the crew. Just two weeks ago, he had been looking forward to wearing that new designer's blue and silver dress jacket. Now, it would have to wait. 

When he was ready, he sat on the floor of the small guest cabin he had been provided, crossed his legs and and closed his eyes. Very slowly, like stretching a joint after having it bandaged for a long time, he extended his presence in the Force. He immediately felt the bright signature of the two Jedi on board, and with a lot less intensity, he felt the rest of the crew. The older Jedi sent a wave of acknowledgement his way, and the younger one sent curiosity. Luke released some of his discomfort and exhaustion from his body, and let his mind be serenaded by the calming whispers of the living Force around him. He always enjoyed meditating while in hyperspace because all living signatures around him would become sharper and easier to distinguish. 

The sound of his door room opening suddenly disrupted his meditation. Luke opened his eyes, startled. The orange astromech, Chopper, was standing in the doorway beeping and cursing. It entered the room with a squeak to its wheels and went directly to an electric panel on the wall to Luke's left. 

Observing with open curiosity, Luke studied the astromech as it worked. It seemed angry and annoyed by something, changing wires and adjusting screws. 

"I can help you with your wheel, if it's hurting you," offered Luke. 

The astromech turned its visual processing unit to him and observed him suspiciously. Luke smiled gently. 

"I noticed that your left wheel is creaking. It sounds like it needs an adjustment." 

Very reluctant, and probably suspecting an ulterior motive, Chopper rolled closer to him. Luke nodded with encouragement, until the droid reached a workable distance. Once there, he started manually adjust its left wheel and reconnect a couple of loose wires, using the Force when his hands reached technical limitations. He also felt around for any more discomforts the droid might be experiencing, and with his towel he cleaned the lens on the visual processing unit. It was evident this droid desperately need an oil bath, and a ton of maintenance work done, but Luke didn't want to overstep its boundaries. 

"There. You should be more comfortable now." 

The droid rolled around carefully testing the new adjustments, and beeped happily at the lack of squeaking. It didn't thank him, but turned to resume its work without any more insults in binary. Luke counted it as a win. 

Luke tried to resume his meditation, but when Chopper was finished with its task, it grabbed him by the sleeves of his cape and tried to drag him out of the room. Amused, Luke followed it through the corridor and into the main hold of the ship, where the Mandalorian woman –Sabine Wren–, the younger Jedi, and Garazeb were playing a game of Dejarik. The Jedi, who seemed to be losing spectacularly, was the only one who raised his head from the game and acknowledged his presence. 

Chopper beeped some insulting words at him. 

“Hey, I’m distracted, ok? It’s not my fault they always team up against me,” he answered resentfully. Chopper laughed at him. 

“I’m sorry,” intervened Luke. “I didn’t catch your name.” 

The Jedi studied him with his striking deep blue eyes, shining with mischief. 

“Uh, Hondo Ohnaka.” 

Luke, who had dealt with the elusive pirate on more than one occasion, smiled with amusement. The pirate had a particular talent for irritating his father, but somehow always eluding jail or execution. 

“Pleased to meet you, Hondo,” replied Luke, and sat on a chair opposite to them. Chopper rolled up to him and sat against his legs, emitting a sound that almost sounded like a tooka’s purr. 

“Really, Chop, fraternizing with the enemy?” grumbled Garazeb. The droid only answered with a rude beep. 

Sabine laughed at him. “You’re the one to talk, Zeb. Don’t pretend like you weren’t _fraternizing_ with Kallus at breakfast today.” 

If Lasats could blush, Luke was sure Zeb would be blushing. “I was collecting information for the mission!” 

But his protests fell on deaf ears, as Sabine and the Jedi laughed at his expense. Zeb retaliated by messing with the table’s controls, and effectively ruining the state of the game. 

“Hey!” protested Sabine, and got up from her seat menacingly. Perceiving a fight was imminent, Luke recoiled back into his seat. 

The door to the cockpit cabin opened and through there entered Kanan and a green Twi'lek woman wearing a piloting jumpsuit. She was quick to intervene, apparently used to their antics. 

“Hey kids, that’s enough.” 

“He/she started it!” yelled Sabine and Zeb at the same time, pointing at each other. The woman rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it. Sit down and clear the table, we have to do the mission briefing.” She turned her attention to Luke and smiled politely. “Hello Luke, my name is Hera and I’m the captain of this ship.” 

Luke noticed how she had very pointedly refused to acknowledge his royal title. He also noticed that she had his lightsaber hanging from her belt. 

“Pleased to meet you, Captain.” 

Hera inclined her head, satisfied, and held the lightsaber in her right hand, without unbuckling it from her belt. Kanan tensed beside her. 

“You will get this back when the mission is finished and you have delivered your end of the bargain.” 

Luke held her strong gaze, defiant. She didn’t flinch or change her stance. She was holding all the cards, but was offering him a peaceful resolution. Slowly, Luke nodded, accepting her terms. 

“Let’s start then,” said Hera. 

They all sat around the holotable. Luke noticed Sabine subtly pointing at him with her blaster from under the table. He wasn’t the only one, Kanan was glaring at her disapprovingly. Understanding that the Mandalorian woman would be on edge around a trained Force sensitive who she didn’t consider an ally, Luke decided to let it slide and ignore her. 

Hera ignited the holoproyector and showed a map of the planet Scarif. 

“This is Scarif. It’s an Imperial security complex, where we will find inside a data vault at the Citadel Tower. We need to infiltrate without detection and extract all data regarding Project Stardust.” The holo changed and showed the image of two men in imperial uniform. “These are Engineer Galen Erso and Director Orson Krennic. They are the men responsible for this project." The image changed again and it showed a station orbiting around the planet. "There's a planet-wide defensive shield with a single main entry gate. We will use Luke’s codes to get through the entry point and to the surface, and once there we will slice into their computer to acquire Erso and Krennic's codes. Once we have those, we can get inside the data vault and extract what we came for. Any questions?” 

“Yes,” said Sabine, “won’t the Empire be on alert for him?” she pointed at Luke. “If we use his codes we will be captured immediately.” 

Zeb and the young Jedi nodded along with her.

“That’s why we won’t be using my official codes,” said Luke. “I have an unofficial set of codes that I use when I don’t want to announce my presence when traveling to any Imperial facility. Every high ranking Imperial officer has one. It’s for security reasons.”

The young Jedi scratched his chin. “But if they’re looking for you, won’t they know about this code as well?” 

Luke shook his head. “The code is anonymous. Even if they’re looking for me with that code, it could be anyone of high enough ranking. They won’t risk calling an alert and annoying the wrong Admiral or Moff.” 

Kanan continued with the briefing. “Once inside, Luke will personify Krennic and I will be Erso. Ezra, Sabine and Chopper will act as our security escort. Hera and Zeb, you will remain with the ship and ready to evacuate with the data if necessary. This data is our main priority. We will get it delivered to the Alliance at any cost. Am I clear?” 

Everyone around Luke nodded affirmatively. He fixed his gaze on Kanan. Predicting his question, the man turned to him. 

“Once we have secured the data and we’re out of the Scarif system, we will arrange for your liberation on neutral space.” 

Luke, once again, accepted their terms, seeing no benefit on an argument.

“Good,” finished Hera. “We have six hours until we reach our destination. Everyone, go get ready. Get some sleep. I need you all sharp and on the top of your game for this. Dismissed.”

Luke watched as Ezra –that was how Kanan had called the younger Jedi–, Sabine and Zeb got up from their seats. Hera offered Luke some food, which he accepted, grateful. They ate in silence, respectful of each other’s space. When he was finished, Luke made himself comfortable back on his tiny cabin and tried to catch some sleep. 

He was nervous. If he was discovered, it would be considered high treason. Not even his father, with all his power and influence, would be able to save him. But Agent Kallus’ words had struck a chord with him. The Death Star, as they liked to call it, was an abomination. He couldn’t ignore its existence any longer. This was an opportunity to help the Rebels get rid of it, and he could wash his hands of any responsibility. He would only be giving them access to the information. What they choose to do with it, that was out of his control. 

It was just an infiltration mission. What could possibly go wrong? 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting into the action stuff, yes!  
> While I was writing this I had the meme of "Wait it's all class struggle? Always has been" in my head. Ezra discovers the class divide that fuels state terrorism! Or he will...  
> Also, does anyone love Hera? I love Hera so much. She's my queen.  
> Here's [Luke's outfit](https://collectionapi.metmuseum.org/api/collection/v1/iiif/85990/299859/restricted). I struggle with clothes description so much lol.  
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed! As always, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/softieskywalker) or [tumblr](https://skywalkeranch.tumblr.com/). Until the next one!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I want to thank everyone for the kind comments!! I started this fic as a very self indulgent experiment but I'm glad to see people are actually interested!!!  
> This chapter is a little bit goofier at the beginning because that's the general tone of Rebels, but things will start to get dark very soon 👀  
> Anyway, enjoy!

The Ghost jumped out of hyperspace, startling Ezra from his nap. On his seat behind the two piloting seats, he watched as Hera and Chopper scrambled the ship's codes to make anyone scanning them read them as just another Imperial shuttle. 

The door behind him opened and Kanan walked in, bringing Prince Luke along with him. Ezra smiled at Kanan sleepily, and then quickly glanced at Luke. He was wearing Imperial white again, which Ezra found odd. When did he find the time to change outfits so often? 

Luke raised an eyebrow at his stare, end Ezra examined his own clothes in curiosity. Huh, maybe he should change a bit more frequently, or wash them more regularly. 

Kanan sat alongside Hera and smiled at her, encouraging. She returned a fond smile, and Ezra felt that weird mix of embarrassment and joy felt whenever your parents kissed. 

As they slowly approached Scarif, Hera spoke through the official frequency.

"This is cargo shuttle CP-361, requesting a landing pad."

Ezra started biting his nails, a habit he had developed whenever he felt anxious. Kanan turned around on his seat to glare at him. Immediately, Ezra stopped, annoyed. How on Sith Hells had he known he was doing it? 

An officer from the station responded: 

"CP-361 you're not authorized to be here."

Hera continued: "Acknowledged, Sir, we're here on a last hour assignment. Transmitting clearance codes." 

She made a signal for Luke, who approached the control panel and started typing a long and convoluted series of codes. When he was finished, they waited anxiously for a long minute. 

"Shuttle CP-361 you're clear for landing on pad 14."

"Yes!" celebrated Ezra.

Kanan got up from his seat, stopped for a second to thank Luke –who looked extremely confused– and walked out of the cockpit.

"Get ready," said Hera, as she slowly maneuvered the ship through the shield gate. Ezra stared out of the windows, awed at the immensity of the facility. As they descended through the planet’s atmosphere, he could see the neverending beautiful beaches of Scarif, with almost transparent blue waters and green palm trees, and the entire planet looked like it was one single tropical paradise. 

Hera parked the ship on the indicated platform, and Ezra could feel his body fill with anticipation. The comms chirped to life: 

"Shuttle CP-361, get ready for inspection."

That was their signal. Ezra gestured with his head towards the door, and walked outside the cockpit, Luke following behind him. He watched from the top of the hallway as Zeb and Kanan surprised the inspection crew as they entered the landing ramp, knocking them unconcious. Sabine ran to take their identifications, guns, and comms from them. 

Ezra descended the ladder and helped Kanan undress the unconscious crew. 

“Take the taller one, that will fit you better,” suggested Kanan. Ezra smiled smugly at him, stretching his back proudly, and did what he was told. It had been very recently that he had hit his final grow sprout, and had passed Kanan in height by a couple of centimeters. A fact that annoyed his master to no end. “Oh shut up and just get dressed.” 

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Your face did.”

When Sabine, Kanan and Ezra were all dressed in the stolen uniforms, Sabine distributed among them the stolen artifacts. She avoided giving Luke a gun, and only gave him an identification cylinder and a comm. 

Kanan stared at the bodies on the floor. “We have to hide them.” 

“Where?” said Zeb, “they can’t go on the ship, what if they wake up?”

“I don’t know, figure something out!” 

Zeb looked extremely unhappy at the prospect of having to carry four bodies out of the ship by himself. 

Luke’s comm suddenly turned on and the voice of another officer intervened, irritated: “Inspection crew, is everything alright?”

“Yes sir,” replied Luke with a scarily good impression of the first officer that had talked to them, “we were just going over some details with the manifest. Everything seems to be in order.” 

“Creepy,” whispered Zeb, and Sabine punched him on the shoulder. He glared at her, and Kanan scolded them for their childish behaviour. 

“We have to go!” insisted Ezra. 

Kanan, Sabine and Ezra walked behind Luke as he descended the ramp with his head high and his hands behind his back, walking with confident steps and creating an aura of authority and importance around him that only trained politicians and royalty members could successfully pull off. He didn’t look a single stormtrooper in the eye, and simply walked past them as if their presence was of insignificance to him. Not a single trooper questioned them, and some of them, Ezra noticed, recoiled as if afraid of making a noise. 

They reached the transport that would take them to the tower, and Chopper, who looked incredibly annoyed at his new paint job of imperial colors, unlocked the gates through the terminal. 

“This is very uncomfortable, the pants are really tight around my–” whined Ezra under his breath as soon as the doors closed and the transport started moving. 

_“–Quiet!”_ hissed Sabine. 

Ezra resigned himself to suffering in silence. 

The transport stopped with a hiss of metal, and Luke scrunched his nose around, as if judging the maintenance state of the facility. The doors opened and the group walked out of the transport, looking for a computer terminal. 

Sabine pointed at a small room by a corridor next to them.

“There’s the terminal Chop, go!”

They followed the astromech into the small room, Kanan and Ezra guarding the entrance. Chopper connected with the main computer and downloaded the identification codes for Director Krennic and Engineer Erso. Then, Sabine used the computer to slice the identification cylinders and change their codes to the ones they needed. Then, she handed them back to Luke and Kanan.

Chopper informed with a distressed beep that they were at least a hundred patrol troopers on their way to the data vault. Ezra cursed under his breath. That was too many stormtroopers to fight or mind trick without going unnoticed. 

Luke turned to face Kanan. “Let me take the lead.”

Sabine crossed her arms. “No way–”

“Sabine…” warned Kanan.

“I’m supposed to be the Director, right?” continued Luke. “Well then I am in charge. I know how to go around Imperial protocol.” 

“Listen here you spoiled little–”

 _“–Sabine!”_ cut her off Ezra. She stopped, but continued to glare at Luke with murder in her eyes. “He’s right. Just let him deal with the idiots at the security gate. He’s unarmed anyway.” 

Luke raised his hands as a peace offering. 

“Ugh,” grunted Sabine. “Fine. But if you try anything at all…” 

She pointed at him with her blaster to drive her point across. Ezra could swear he saw Luke fighting off a smile, before he straightened it out his posture and walked out of the computer room, leading the way. 

They walked through several corridors, and every time they crossed paths with a platoon of troopers, Luke walked past them with confidence and indifference. Every time Ezra sensed one of them might stop them to ask where they were going, as soon as they made eye contact with Luke they returned to their squad and continued about their own business. Ezra was sure this wasn’t just an act. He could sense the Force shift in the air slightly every time the attention of the troopers jumped away from them. Was Luke influencing them without words? Was that even possible? He had heard that the Sith could change how others perceived them, making their own appearance change in another person’s mind. Was he making them see the real Krennic? Or was his air of importance and purpose enough to make Imperial troopers leave them alone? He could feel the Force being affected, but it wasn’t dark, it wasn’t cold. It was a simple and subtle shift, like the wind changing course and moving the leaves in a tree on a different direction. 

At the end of a long corridor they found a control room, where a big security door closed the data vault from the outside world. A group of technicians were standing on their posts, attending the computer terminals and exchanging information. Luke wordlessly handed his identification cylinder to one of the guards by the door. 

The security panel beeped with a green light, giving them clearance, and one of the technicians jumped from his seat. 

"Director Krennic! We weren't expecting you, sir." 

Ezra observed as Luke turned the pompous act up to eleven, raising his nose in the air. "That's been made abundantly clear, Sargent." 

The technician shrunk in his place. He extended his hands and walked from behind his computer. "Is there any way we might be of assistance?"

Luke just stared at him, unimpressed. "Don't make me lose my time with your stupid questions." 

The technician was now trembling. "Y-yes sir." 

Kanan decided to intervene. “We’re here to retrieve data from my own project,” he handed them his own identification cylinder. “It’s urgent.”

The officers all scrambled to help Kanan find where in the data vault was the information he was requesting. One of the younger technicians was the one to find it, and handed to Kanan the location of the data disk in question. 

"Open the door to the vault," demanded Luke.

"R-right away, sir."

The security guard closest to the vault door was the one to open it. The big circular door slided to the side and revealed a small corridor that lead to a secure chamber with another computer terminal, and a big set of transparent windows. Behind them was an almost infinite library of data disks, organized in small compartments and accessible through the terminal. Luke lead the group inside, but before Ezra could cross the vault doors, one of the security guards stopped them.

"I'm sorry, sir?” he was talking to Luke. “These troopers are not authorized to enter the vault. Only you and Engineer Erso–"

Luke turned to him sharply. "Are you questioning the loyalty of my men, Lieutenant?" 

The guard froze under his fierce gaze. "N-no sir!"

“Then what is the problem?”

The rest of the guards and technicians looked very uncomfortable, and weren’t looking at them. Ezra could feel the room’s temperature dropping, and his heart accelerating. Beside him, he saw Sabine reach for her blaster. 

The guard kept pressing on. “It’s protocol, sir. Troopers that are not officers are not authorized–”

“Fine,” cut him off Luke, sounding extremely irritated. He turned to Ezra and Sabine. “Wait here, and make sure these imbeciles don’t accidentally lock us in.” 

And with that, he and Kanan disappeared behind the vault’s doors. The officers collectively released the breath they had been holding, and nervously got back to their stations. 

“Damn, he’s good,” whispered Ezra, awed. 

“Too good,” replied Sabine bitterly. “I don’t like it.”

Ezra rolled his eyes.

  
***

Governor Pryce reached desperately with her hands to her throat, her eyes watering and her entire face going red. Her legs kicked uselessly in the air and she choked on her own tongue as she struggled to breathe. 

“I don’t want any more of your pathetic excuses!” roared Darth Vader, his voice resonating like a bomb inside her office. "This level of incompetence is unacceptable!"

He let her drop to the floor like a puppet that had their strings cut short. Pryce slowly raised to her hands a knees, her entire body trembling like a newborn shaak. She retched violently on the floor, and Vader stepped away from her, disgusted. 

"Lord Vader, if I may…" 

Vader turned around to face Grand Admiral Thrawn, who was standing by the windows with his hands behind his back, observing the Lothalian Capital City. He was one of the very few men in the Imperial High Command Vader actually respected. 

"Proceed," allowed Vader. 

The chiss man observed as Pryce struggled to stand up with his sharp red eyes, his face shining with indifference. 

"I don't believe the kidnapping of young Prince Amidala has been a calculated move from the Rebels. It's out of character for them." Thrawn walked to the holotable at the center of the office and pulled out a file. "The Rebel faction that operates on this system, unlike most radicalized others, regulates their modus operandi by a set of moral rules."

"Moral rules?" scoffed Vader. "The Rebels are terrorists, Grand Admiral. There's no moral code on terrorism."

Thrawn inclined his head slightly, granting him that point. 

"Yes, but this particular faction is different," he clicked through the panel and the holo changed, showing the blurry image of a tall man with long brown hair and a short beard, holding a blue lightsaber. The image looked like it was taken from a security holo camera, and it lacked essential details to identify his face. Regardless, his weapon of choice was identifier enough. "This group is lead by a Jedi." 

Vader clenched his fists and the ground underneath him cracked. Governor Pryce scrambled away from him, and Thrawn continued to study him, unphased. 

_A Jedi!_ That would explain why they had taken Luke. His precious son, so strong and skilled in the force, his most talented student. But also the only one of them who refused to surrender himself to the dark. Vader had never enforced his Master’s methods on Luke, the cruelest of the Sith’s techniques that had worked so well on his Inquisitors. He was too much like his mother, filled with compassion and stubbornness, and forcing him to change his ways would only drive him away. Vader had made him into a fierce warrior, one that could very easily overpower almost any opponent. He was sure Luke would one day become the most powerful creature in the Galaxy, capable of overthrowing Sidious himself. But his inexperience was his weakness. Any mediocre Force sensitive could detect the conflict inside of Luke, and any Jedi would not resist the opportunity to twist his son’s mind and try to recruit him to their side. Vader had no doubts of his son’s loyalty, but he feared that too much time under the toxic influence of a Jedi could do to him. 

Thrawn wasn’t finished. “We don’t have much more information on this Jedi, but I don’t believe that to be an accident. I suspect there’s someone who’s been deliberately erasing any trace of him from our data.” 

Governor Pryce, who had found a chair to throw herself in, sputtered indignantly: “A traitor? My men would never!” 

Thrawn raised a single eyebrow in her direction. “It wouldn’t be the first time, Governor.” 

Vader evaluated if the amount of paperwork he would have to fill after disposing of Pryce would be worth the effort. 

“Find the traitor. Interrogate every single trooper, officer, and janitor that has ever set foot on this system,” he pointed at Pryce with his index, and she visibly flinched. “Next time you fail me I won’t be so forgiving.” 

Thrawn offered him a copy of the files, and Vader took them as he exited the office. He would have to fly back to Coruscant and inform his Master of the Jedi threat. If a Jedi had captured his son, then he wouldn't be on Lothal anymore. Vader had to regroup his forces and find him, before it was too late. 

  
***

Luke repressed a shiver as the vault door closed behind his back. Beside him, Kanan was studying him with a gentle touch of the Force, his unseeing eyes staring beyond the crown of Luke’s hair. 

“Time to deliver on your promise,” whispered Kanan. His deep and calming voice sent a wave of reassurance down his spine, which irritated Luke to no end. This man was his enemy. He was holding him against his will. He was forcing him to betray his Empire. 

A voice in the back of Luke’s mind reminded him that if he was so frustrated with his own captivity, he could at least try to escape. He hadn't attempted to force his way out of the situation even once. 

No. Any kind of fight would only bring attention to them. And that would help his father on his quest to find him. Oh, Luke was sure Vader was looking for him. He would bet a good amount that he had already scorched entire planets to the ground searching for him. These people had him captured, but they didn’t deserve Vader’s rage. If what he wanted was to avoid more bloodshed, Luke would have to find his own way home. And this plan was the one he had negotiated for. 

They approached the control panel and listed the location of the data disk. Luke used the manual controls to extract the entire thing, and after a second hesitation, handed it over to Kanan. 

The older Jedi smiled at him, fatherly. “Thank you, Luke. You’ve saved countless lives by helping us today.”

Luke fought down the urge to scream. “Let’s get this over with.” 

He turned around and made his way to the door. His body was trembling with adrenaline, and his head was dizzy, filled with anguish. He took a deep breath, fearing the anxiety would take over. Before he could use the control panel to request the guards to open the door, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“I know this has been hard on you,” said Kanan. “But you have proven to me you’re an honorable man. I promise no harm will come to you, and we will let you free at the first opportunity.” 

Luke’s heart was hammering down on his chest. _It’s not you who I’m scared of._

The vault’s doors opened and Luke let out a sigh of relief. He immediately straightened his back, cleared his expression of any leftover worry, and marched out of the security chamber with controlled steps. Kanan followed close behind, holding the data disk. 

“Director!” squeaked Sargent Imbecile. Luke was growing tired of the incompetence of low level officers, but taking advantage of their fear of their superiors was proving very useful. “I’m optimist you’ve found everything in order!” 

Luke pushed his lips together. “Yes, Sargent. I’ll be on my way now.” 

He gestured to the other two rebels disguised as troopers and headed down the exit, when Sargent Imbecile intervened again.

“But sir! You can’t take a data disk from the vault!”

They all stopped, frozen on their place. Luke wanted to scream. He turned around, simulating fury. 

“What’s the problem _now_?” 

Sargent Imbecile hesitated for a second. “Y-you can copy the data, sir, but you can’t take out the original disk! It’s against protocol.” 

Luke was very tempted to suggest a few places where he could go and insert the protocol. He decided to indulge in the bureaucracy that existed for the sole reason of giving men like Sargent Imbecile a job within the Empire. 

“Of course,” conceded Luke between his teeth. “Erso, please give this man the disk and copy the data. We’re on a tight schedule.” 

But Kanan didn’t move. Luke frowned, but before he could insist, Sargent Imbecile’s comm chirped to life. 

“Sargent Dorus! We have a situation, sir!” 

The officer in question gave Luke an alarmed look. “Excuse me, Director.” 

Luke watched as Sabine and Ezra stepped closer to Kanan, guarding him. 

“An inspection crew has been reported missing, sir! Secure the vault, we suspect there are impostors running loose!” 

Luke felt his heart sink into his stomach. He sent Kanan a panicked look, and the Jedi shook his head silently. They hadn’t been discovered yet. 

Sargent Imbecile ran his eyes from Luke, to Kanan, to Sabine and finally, to Ezra. He seemed to reach some kind of conclusion, because he signaled to his guards and pointed at Sabine. 

“Guards! Search them!” 

Luke watched as two guards marched menacingly towards them. 

“Sargent, what’s the meaning of this!” he protested, desperate. 

“I’m sorry, Director,” the Sargent said as he moved from behind his computer, “but I must ensure your safety. I suspect your guards are the impostors!” 

“That’s ridiculous!” said Luke, but before he could object any further, he observed almost in slow motion as Sabine punched one of the guards in the face. 

Then, several things happened at the same time. 

Kanan pushed with the Force the other guard into the wall, making a dent into the metal. Sargent Imbecile barked orders at the remaining guards, who all drew out their guns and pointed at them. Sabine started shooting, and Luke had to run to the other extreme of the room to avoid being injured in the line of fire. Ezra then sprinted to his side, probably suspecting he was trying to escape, and grabbed him by the back of the collar. 

Luke didn’t have time to resist. In less than a blink, he saw one of Sabine’s thermo detonators fall to the floor and get hit by a stray laser bolt. 

The entire room exploded around them. Luke felt his body fly into the hot air and collapse against a pile of rubble. His ears ringed, and he felt warm liquid dripping from an open wound on his temple. He blinked against the smoke a couple of times, and waited for a minute as his brain recalibrated. 

He and Ezra were the farthest away from the explosion, so they probably had experienced the least amount of damage. Luke examined the remains of room around him. The ceiling had collapsed in the middle, separating the space into two. He could see the bodies of several officers half buried underneath the rubble, and he suppressed a shiver.

By his side, Ezra –who had regained awareness– was doing the same. He had cuts and scrapes all over his face, but otherwise seemed unharmed. 

“Are you alright?” grunted Ezra. 

“I’m fine,” said Luke, hands shaking. 

“You’re bleeding,” observed Ezra and Luke nodded, feeling dumb. Then he seemed to remember something important, because he stood up and ran towards the pile of debris. “Kanan!” Ezra shouted, “Sabine!!” 

Luke cut down a piece of what was left of his cape and improved a bandage for his head, tying it around his temples with trembling fingers.

“KANAAAN! SABINEEEE!” was roaring Ezra, sounding almost close to tears. 

Luke slowly got up to his feet, testing the ground underneath him. Then, a voice surged from behind the rubble.

“EZRA!” 

“KANAN! Oh thank the Force!” the relief was palpable on Ezra’s voice. “Are you guys ok?” 

A second of silence passed. “I think so. Sabine has a broken arm, but we’re ok.” 

“We’re ok too,” answered Ezra. 

An alarm started to blast over them. Luke covered his ears, his head was killing him. 

“They’re going to close the shield…” whispered Luke. Ezra must have heard him, because he turned back to the wall of fallen debris.

“KANAN! Do you still have the disk?” 

“Yeah, I gave it to Chopper before the explosion…” 

“Take it to Hera! _Now_!”

Understanding his intentions, Luke turned to look at him, alarmed. 

“What?” said Kanan. “What about you?” 

Ezra paused for a second, and then shook his head. “Don’t worry about me! I’ll find us a way out! You need to leave before they close the shield.” 

“But…”

“JUST GO!” 

Luke felt a wave of _worryaffectionlovepride_ flowing through the Force, and he shivered. He saw Ezra smile, close his eyes and nod. Whatever they had told each other, it seemed to fill Ezra with determination. 

“I’ll find my way back to you, Master,” he whispered solemnly, and then turned to face Luke. “C’mon, we need to get out of here.” 

As Luke slowly followed him out of the room through a broken wall and into a corridor, avoiding troopers and hiding behind columns, he suddenly realised this was his perfect opportunity to escape. He could turn to the nearest officer and tell the truth –that he was the missing Prince and that this man was his captor–. But that would mean a death sentence for Ezra, he was sure of that. And on top of it, how could he possibly explain to the Emperor about the missing data disk? If he turned himself in now, it would mean admitting to his crime. Luke would be declared a traitor, he was sure of it. And that would mean a death sentence for himself as well. 

No, he decided, it was too dangerous to escape now. He would run from this system with Ezra, and once in hyperspace, he would fight for his freedom once again. He had defeated him in combat once, he could easily do it again. 

“C’mon, hurry!” said Ezra, grabbing him by the elbow. They entered a big hangar where several troops were leaving inside their suttles, and Luke realized that that was their escape plan. He scanned the hangar until he found a small ship that was being boarded by a distressed looking officer.

Luke planted himself in front of the man, who froze at the sight of his white uniform.

“I’m taking this ship. You’re going back to your station and won’t report it missing,” said Luke, making eye contact with the officer and reaching out with the Force to press inside his mind. It was a stupidly easy job. The poor trooper immediately went glassy-eyed and nodded in agreement. 

“I’m going back to my station and won’t report the ship missing,” said the officer in monotone, and turned around to leave. 

Luke made a gesture for Ezra and they both boarded the ship. Ezra took charge of the pilot seat quickly starting the engines, and Luke resigned himself to the copilot seat. 

They abandoned the hangar and flew between dozens of ships, all headed into the same direction: the shield gate. Luke found it strange. Wasn't the base on lockdown? Why were they all evacuating? Perhaps the explosion had been bigger than he had thought…

A heavy silence stretched between them as they ascended through the atmosphere. Ezra kept sending looks on his direction, as if worried he would try something and get them captured. But Luke was tired, and his head really hurt. If he just reclined in his seat and closed his eyes...

When they crossed the shield, he head Ezra give out a loud sigh of relief. 

“That was close,” he joked. Luke could only nod. Any minor effort felt monumental with his head throbbing in pain. “Wait, what’s that?” 

At Ezra’s alarmed remark, Luke opened his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed he had closed them. 

And then he saw it. 

_No._

No, it couldn’t be! 

“I thought you said the battle station wasn’t finished!” hissed Ezra, furious. “You lied to us!” 

“No…” muttered Luke. “I thought–”

They observed as the gigantic might of the Death Star eclipsed the sun of Scarif, becoming the only thing on their field of view and drowning them in darkness. 

“Was this a trap?” demanded Ezra, turning his body to him. “Did you alert them of our presence?” 

“No!” Luke couldn’t take his eyes away from the station. The last report had said it was still in construction! Had his own officers lied to him? Had they lied to his father too, or was he in on the lie? “I didn’t!” 

Ezra had lost control of the ship. They were being pulled by the tractor beam and into the Death Star’s main hangar. 

“I’m having a hard time believing you, buddy.” 

Luke’s head was spinning out of control. _He had been lied to_. He knew he didn’t have access to all the information regarding warfare, but he thought that at least the information he did have access to was to be trusted. How could they hide something so gigantic from him? How couldn't he have noticed? What else where they keeping from him? 

The ship docked and was quickly boarded by an entire squad of troopers. Luke observed, disturbed, as Ezra did his best to fight them back, but was quickly overpowered and put into handcuffs. Luke vaguely wondered why he hadn’t fought back with his lightsaber, and concluded that he probably didn’t want to be identified as a Jedi. 

One of the troopers grabbed Luke by the chin and gasped. He activated his comm, radiating smugness.

“Inform Grand Moff Tarkin that we have found the missing Prince,” he was interrupted by Ezra yelling obscenities as another trooper took his lightsaber from his belt. “And tell him his captor is a Jedi.” 

The next half an hour passed in a blurr. The troops dragged them out of the ship and separated them. Luke was sure someone had replaced his improvised bandage with a bacta patch. At some point he had been brought to the bridge of the station, passing large grey corridors and neverending elevators. Ezra had been brought with him as well, but he looked a lot more bruised and beat up than he had the last time Luke had seen him. He was handcuffed with Force restraining chains, and he was barely standing up. 

Luke wasn’t in a better state. For some reason, he was also handcuffed. He demanded an explanation from the troopers in the bridge, but nobody answered him. 

“I’m afraid they won’t follow your orders, your Highness,” said a pompous voice emerging from the elevators. Luke turned to see Grand Moff Tarkin enter the bridge with long and practiced steps. “It’s only a precaution, of course,” he said when he reached them, and he pointed at Luke’s handcuffs, “before an investigation is carried out.” 

“An investigation?” challenged Luke. “What for?” 

Tarkin studied him with his eyes from head to toe, and clicked his tongue. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in such deplorable state, your Majesty. You’re always the shining image of elegance and beauty.” 

Luke flushed furiously under his gaze, feeling objectified. He resisted the urge to fight against his handcuffs, and avoided looking at Tarkin's eyes. Beside him, Ezra let out a painful laugh. 

Tarkin turned his attention to the rebel, losing all his good manners. 

“Something amuses you, scum?” 

Ezra smiled at him with bloodied teeth and insolence. “Why it doesn’t surprise me that with all your power, you’re nothing more than an old pervert?” 

Luke felt his blood turn cold. Tarkin seemed furious, and advanced towards Ezra. Then, he slapped him so hard he flew down to the floor, head first. 

“Troopers!,” barked Tarkin. “Take him to the detention level. Send a message to Grand Admiral Thrawn to evacuate his fleet.” Takin then smiled for the first time in the night, cruel, as he observed Ezra wrestle against his restraints. “And set course for the Lothal system.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Vader buddy, you're in for a surprise! And Luke, babe, you need to start to revaluate your life choices....  
> Next chapter will bring the angst I promised, sorry not sorry.  
> As always, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/softieskywalker) or [tumblr](https://softieskywalker.tumblr.com/). Until the next one!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I'm really proud of this chapter. It took me way longer than I expected to finish it, but here it is!

“Hey sweetheart, get us another round!”

“No, I think you’ve had enough.” 

Leia Skywalker continued to wipe down the table bar, ignoring the green male rodian who had drunkenly shouted at her from the other extreme of the bar. 

"Hey, I said I want another drink!" 

Picking a thick glass from the sink and drying it with a cloth, Leia walked to the rodian. He was accompanied by two other men, a greasy looking human and a very annoyed nautolan. They were all wearing pirate gear, and smelled like they hadn't had a sonic shower in weeks. 

"You owe me for the last three rounds, buddy. I am not serving you a single drop until you pay me.” 

The human laughed at her. “She’s a feisty one, alright.”

The rodian did not like that. Leia stared at him, hard, not giving an inch of ground. 

“Look, sweetheart,” said the nautolan, looking uncomfortable. “We don’t want any trouble. Just serve him and we’ll let you do your job.” 

Leia set the glass down on the table with more force than necessary. The pirates jumped, surprised. “ _I said_ I am not serving any of you until you pay me what you owe.” 

The three of them exchanged looks. Leia could feel their intentions before they could reach for their blasters. She was about to reach under the table bar for her own shotgun when another man intervened. 

“Is there a problem here?” 

The pirates turned around and faced a tall male Mandalorian, dressed in full armor and armed to the teeth. He was wearing his mask and crossing his arms threateningly. The rodian was about to jump and pick a fight with him, but the human had gone pale and stopped him with a hand on his chest. 

“N-not at all. We were just leaving.”

“You’re not leaving until you pay me,” hissed Leia. 

The mandalorian reached for his blaster. “You’re going to pay for your drinks, and you’re getting out of my sight.” 

The three men exchanged nervous looks and then nodded. The nautolan left a couple of credits on the table, and ran after his companions, disappearing through the door of the cantina. Leia took the credits and saved them in her pocket. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Din. I can take care of myself.”

The mandalorian sighed tiredly and sat in a stool. “A simple thank you would go a long way.” 

Leia served him a generous cup of cold beer, and waved his hand when Din tried to pay for it. He then shook his helmeted head and dropped the credits on the tip jar. 

After serving a couple of tables, Leia returned behind the bar close to Din. “What are you doing all the way out here in the outer rim, anyway? Looking for a job?” 

The mandalorian took out a data chip. 

“I am here on a job.” 

He clicked the side of the chip and a small holo of a young human male floated above the bar. He looked around Leia’s age, blonde, smooth white skin, clear eyes. Handsome in a very sweet way. 

Leia raised her eyebrows and let out a low whistle. “Ten million credits? Who is he, the son of the Emperor?” 

Din chuckled. “Something like that. The Imperial Prince, heir to the galactic throne. He was kidnapped about two weeks ago.” 

Leia almost laughed, feeling a strange kind of smugness. “It’s a shame, he’s not coming back to his palace in one piece. I imagine someone like him has way too many enemies.” 

The mandalorian turned off the data chip and packed it away inside his robes. Leia’s attention was caught by another customer, and she cleared their table as they left the establishment. Another table of stingy customers that didn’t tip. Leia cleaned up as many tables as she could, it was nearing closing time. When she was done, she came back to Din’s side and started cleaning dishes. 

“How am I only hearing about this from you, anyway,” continued Leia conversationally. “I would imagine something like this would be all over the holonet.” 

“It’s a classified job. I didn’t get it through the guild, a private party hired me. Some imperial named Piett or something. I didn’t ask all the details.” 

Leia hummed, interested. “So why are you telling me, if it’s so secret?” 

“Because they think he was kidnapped by Jedi.” 

Leia almost dropped a plate she was holding. She turned around and glared daggers into Din’s helmet. In his defence, he seemed apologetic. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

During the next hour Leia watched as the last remaining customers finished their food and drinks and walked up the stairs to their rooms or walked out of the cantina and into the streets. Din remained in his seat, waiting patiently. When Leia was absolutely sure nobody else was within earshot, reaching out with her senses twice, she sat alongside Din in a stool. 

“What do you really want, Mando?” 

Leia could sense his resigned amusement. 

“The information they gave me was limited. The Prince went missing two weeks ago on the Lothal system. They believe it was the work of the local Rebel faction, which is led by a known Jedi who goes by the name of Jarrus.” Din tilted his head to one shoulder, stretching his neck. Leia winced when she heard his bones snapping. He relaxed his shoulders a little bit after that. “It’s too much money to reject the job.” 

Leia crossed her arms.

“Lothal is on the other side of the galaxy. I doubt you'll find the prince here. And you still haven’t answered my question.” 

She heard Mando chuchle. “I just want to know if he’s one of yours.” 

Leia didn’t need to ask who he was referring to. If this Jarrus was a Jedi, it made sense that Din would have come all the way out to Kabal to ask her. After all, she had revealed herself to him as a Jedi in a time of need, and for that he was loyal to her. But being a Mandalorian, he had the tendency to see other cultures through the lens of his own, hence why he was asking if Jarrus was _hers_. If he was from her clan. Leia was sure Din wouldn't drop the job if he was, but he had the courtesy of giving her a heads up.

She didn't answer him for a long time, deep in thought. Leia instinctively reached out through her bond with her Uncle Ben, who was upstairs, probably resting. She received a wave of affection and acknowledgment, and a small taste of curiosity. Leia didn’t respond. 

“No,” she answered finally. “He’s not.”

“But…?” 

Leia uncrossed her arms. “But if the Alliance really is behind this, you need to be careful, Mando. Jedi or not, kidnapping the heir to the throne is a _huge_ move. They’re either desperate enough, or stupid enough to pull it off, and I wouldn’t want to get in the middle of that when it inevitably comes crashing down on them.” 

If Leia could see his face through his helmet, she was sure his expression would be an irritated one. His entire aura was screaming defensiveness. 

“If he’s not of your clan then I don’t see the issue. I need this job. I have people who depend on me.” 

Leia sighed. “I know. It was just my advice. Be careful. I don’t want to have to save your ass again.” 

Mando laughed at her, but she knew he understood her promise hiding in her words. She would save him if necessary. Leia was just wishing it wouldn’t come to that. 

“Are you staying the night?”

“No, I better head back to the Razor Crest.” 

Leia prepared a small basket with food for his trip, which Din knew better than argue against, and she accompanied him to the door of the cantina. She watched him disappear into the streets of the town. 

Closing the place for the night, Leia started cleaning. She mopped up the floor and organized chairs back on their tables. She finished cleaning the big pile of dishes and stayed almost another hour making inventory of their food supplies. They would have to make a trip to the wholesaler market very soon. Money was tight, but they would get by. They always managed to stay afloat. 

It was almost midnight when Leia heard small knocks on the door. For a second she thought she had imagined it, but then the kicking started again, insistent. She reached under the bar and took her shotgun in her arms, and reached out with her senses. Behind the door, she felt four sentients and a droid. Two injured. 

Leia opened the door just enough to stick her head out. 

“Hello?” she asked the people waiting there. A green female twi'lek wearing piloting gear was holding up a human man who looked very close to passing out. A tall and nervous Lasat was helping a young Mandalorian stay on her feet. A very rough looking astromech closed the group. 

“We need shelter,” asked the twi’lek. 

“We’re closed for the night,” Leia said. “And we don’t have room for four occupants.” 

The twi’lek reached inside her collar and extracted a necklace: a gold phoenix very similar to the old symbol of the Jedi Order. 

“We’re with the Alliance. I saw the symbol on the back of the building. _Please_.” 

Leia was about to refuse again, when the man raised his head and locked his eyes on her. She felt him reaching out through the Force, gentle and very weak. Something in his eyes, wise beyond his years, reminded her of her Ben. She heard his plea, insistent, but respectful. The Force, electric and demanding, illuminated the way. 

“Get in,” she indicated them, and opened the door completely. “Don’t make much noise.” 

“Thank you, thank you,” whispered the twi’lek, and the group followed her inside. Leia closed the door behind them, and secured the lock. 

“Can you climb the stairs?” Leia asked the man. Slowly, he nodded in answer. Leia guided them through the stairs in the back of the room towards the residential area. She reached the top floor and waited for them in the only one room that was left available at the end of the hallway. 

When they entered the room, Leia watched as they helped their injured into the two beds. 

“I’ll bring you some water,” said Leia, and walked out of the room. 

She climbed the stairs to another floor and knocked on Ben’s room. Feeling inpatient, Leia also sent her insistence through their bond. 

“...I know, I know....” Ben said through the door with his raspy and sleepy voice. His face appeared through the ajar door, and his sky blue eyes shined at her with affection. “It’s very late, little one. What’s so important you had to wake your old man from his sleep?” 

Leia felt a little guilty. Ben was getting a little old, and in more recent years, more easily tired. But she knew he liked to exaggerate his senileness to throw people off the hook. 

“The residents in room number six need medical attention.” 

Ben slowly raised an eyebrow. “And…?”

Leia sighed. In her two decades of life she had not been able to fool him once. “And they’re from the Rebel Alliance.” 

A fond smile extended on her uncle’s face. “One day Leia, one day I’ll finally convince you to stop picking up strays…” 

Leia felt her cheeks redden, and she rolled her eyes, embarrassed. He picked a strand of hair that was loose from her bun and with gentle fingers placed it behind her ear. Ben rested his hand on her cheek and inclined his head to kiss her forehead in a comforting and fatherly gesture. 

“Go grab the med kit for me, please.” 

In the time that it took him to change from his pajamas and into his regular clothes, Leia found the medical kit they kept on the deposit and filled a jug with water. They descended to the first floor and made their way to the room at the end of the corridor, being careful with their steps to not awake any of the other guests. 

As they approached the room, Leia was able to pick up parts of their conversation. 

“–would have to find where he was taken first–”

“–why this particular planet, Kanan, I don’t understand–”

“–not much time before they use the station on a sympathiser system–” 

“Good evening,” Ben greeted them as he appeared through the door. “My name is Ben and I’m the owner of this residence. I was informed by my niece that you were in need of assistance?” 

Four pairs of eyes turned to them in surprise. The Lasat was the first to rise to his feet and help Leia with the jug of water. The twi’lek smiled at Ben, relief clar in her expression. 

“My name is Hera. We’re so thankful for your hospitality, sir. My friends here, they were injured…” she gestured to the man, who was resting in one of the beds, and the mandalorian girl, who had taken her helmet off her face and was curling around her right arm. She had really bright pink hair. “We just needed a place to sleep. In the morning we’ll be on our way.” 

Ben smiled at them gently and nodded. “Who first?” 

Hera indicated to the Mandalorian girl. Ben approached her carefully. “Hello there, what is your name? 

“...Sabine.” 

“May I look at your arm, Sabine?” 

Leia helped Hera with the other man as he tried to stand up on the bed. He seemed transfixed on Ben as he checked Sabine’s arm. 

“Auch!” 

“I’m sorry, little one. This is definitely broken. I can splint it and give you some pain medication, if that’s alright with you.” 

Sabine nodded slowly with a guarded look in her eyes. Leia helped Ben fix her arm, and tried sending some reassurance and calmness through the Force as she held her hand. Sabine wouldn’t know where it came from, but she would feel the relief anyway. 

When they moved to help the man, Leia could feel his intensity in the Force. He was searching for something. She let him explore, her shields up and strong, as she applied bacta to his wounds. 

“I’ll see if I can find some spare blankets–” started Leia as soon as they were done, but the man interrupted her. 

“–Master Kenobi?” 

Leia froze on her way to the door. She turned around, and an awkward silence stretched between them. She watched as her uncle and master changed his entire demeanor, and stared at the man with almost hostility.

“Excuse me?” 

“Kanan, please–” tried Hera.

The man sat up straighter in his bed. “Master Kenobi, please. We need your help.”

Ben interchanged a glance with Leia. _Let me handle this._

“I believe you’re mistaking me for someone else–”

“I’m not!” Kanan was growing desperate. “Master Kenobi, I know it’s you. I need help finding my padawan, _please_!”

Ben stared at Kanan for a long minute, analyzing him. Then he sighed, and sat at the end of Sabine’s bed. 

“I can’t do any more than what I’m doing now–”

Kanan puffed. “I know you’ve met my apprentice before, Ezra. On Tatooine. Back when Maul was chasing you.” 

A cold shiver ran down Leia’s spine at the mention of that name. She still had nightmares about that encounter. It was the reason they had run away from their lives as farmers on Tatooine and formed a new life on Kabal. But she didn’t remember anything about a Jedi apprentice named Ezra. 

But her uncle seemed to recognize the name, because he exhaled heavily. 

“I do remember him, yes. Remarcable boy. You’ve trained a brave and talented apprentice, Caleb.” 

Hera and Sabine jumped at the mention of that name. The Lasat, who hadn't talked in the entirety of the conversation, sat on the floor by the door and crossed his arms. 

“He was captured by the Empire,” continued Kanan. “We were on a mission that went south. I’m afraid of what they might do to him to get information.” 

“He has been captured before, hasn’t he?” Ben asked. 

“This time is different,” Hera said. “He was taken aboard the Death Star.” 

Leia almost laughed at the ridiculous name. “The what?” 

Behind her, Sabine cleared her throat. “A battle station the size of a small moon capable of destroying entire planets in a single blast.” 

All the amusement died inside of Leia. A strange feeling ran through her body, like ice cold water inside her veins. Ben locked eyes with her for a long moment. 

“That’s not all, isn’t it?” Ben asked. Their guests interchanged looks between them. 

“No,” Kanan admitted. “That’s not all. When he was taken, he also had the Imperial Prince as his prisoner.” 

Leia heard Din’s voice rumbling in the back of her head. _The Prince went missing two weeks ago on the Lothal system. They believe it was the work of the local Rebel faction, which is led by a known Jedi who goes by the name of Jarrus._

“ _You_ are Jarrus!” Leia accused. “You know they’re offering _a lot_ of money for you, don't you? Some of the best bounty hunters are out for your head.” 

That seemed to spark a reaction out of them. Sabine was quick to grab a blaster, while Zeb and Hera rose to their feet. The only two who stayed in the same position were Kanan and Ben.

“You are not selling us out to the Empire–” Sabine said while gripping a blaster. 

Leia was offended. “I offered you food, shelter, medical care, and you think I’m going to sell you out?” 

“Then why would you bring that up?” Zeb interjected.

“Because the last time one of you came to find Ben, we had to move to another planet. You’re nothing but trouble.” Leia got up abruptly and made a gesture to her uncle. “This conversation is done. Let’s go, Uncle Ben.” 

But her uncle didn’t move. He had gone pale, and was staring in the distance, like he had seen a ghost. 

“Ben…?”

“The Imperial Prince?” Ben asked Kanan, his voice barely a whisper. “Prince Luke Amidala?” 

Kanan was silent for a full minute, and then he nodded slowly. Ben closed his eyes. Then, he took one of Leia’s hands between his own and made her seat again. 

He turned back to Kanan. “Tell me everything.” 

  
***

_It was early in the morning when Vader entered the eastern wing of the palace. Servants and droids were running around energetically, making last minute arrangements for the event that would take place that very evening. It was a special occasion, socialites from all over the galaxy were coming to the annual ball for Empire Day._

_This year, Luke would be hosting the ceremonies. In two more days he would be turning twenty one, and the Emperor had declared him ready to insert himself in the grand political landscape. His Master had expressed his desire for Luke to take a more active role within the Empire’s leadership, and Vader couldn't be more proud. The same way his mother had been once a beloved Queen and a highly respected Senator, their son one day would be Emperor._

_In the hall preceding his son’s apartment he found a generous pile of presents, wrapped in colorful papers and bows. He observed a security officer as he scanned the boxes, and walked past him to enter the doors to Luke’s living quarters._

_Inside he found a large room illuminated in soft colors by the intricate design of the stained transparisteel windows. A wooden table was the main feature of the room, destined for conferences and political dinners. One of the walls was dominated by a library so big it reached the ceiling, and on it’s foot were a couple of armchairs for comfortable reading. The room was deserted, except by the presence of HK-29, a very old assassin droid that Luke had reprogrammed into being his personal butler. Vader was not completely convinced the droid had abandoned his primary programming, just gained loyalty to his son._

_“HK, where is Luke?”_

_The droid, who was holding a large bouquet of flowers on its arms, walked to the dining table and left them delicately over the surface._

_“Observation: Master Luke has finished his breakfast and returned to his quarters.”_

_The droid turned around and made his way to the kitchens. Vader observed him disappear behind the doors, and turned around as he felt the warm presence and soft footsteps of his son approaching the living room._

_“Father? Is that you?”_

_It had been twenty years since his son had been brought into his life, and Vader stiil hadn't gotten used to the way his heart warmed up from the inside out every time he saw him. Luke was his center of gravity, his entire life’s purpose was to care and protect his son. Vader was sure he would go insane if he ever lost him the way he had lost his wife._

_“Luke, my Lucky Star. Have you slept well?”_

_His son rolled his eyes at the childhood nickname. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. How was your trip to Corellia?”_

_“Unbearably uneventful.”_

_Luke’s attention was captured by the flowers on the table. Vader watched as his son's entire face illuminated with a smile. Luke approached the table slowly, almost walking on his tiptoes. He touched one of the flowers' petals with delicate fingers, and buried his nose in the bouquet, inhaling the sweet scent._

_"What is that?" Vader demanded, feeling unable to raise his voice barely above whisper level._

_Luke extracted a small card of flimsy paper from inside the bouquet. "Millaflowers," he bit his lower lip, blushing as he read the card's contents, "from a secret admirer."_

_As he watched him arrange the flowers into a porcelain vase and fill it with water, Vader was suddenly confronted with the realization that his son was not a child anymore. Of course he knew Luke was an adult, he would be twenty one if a few days, but it was different to understand what that entailed. His son had always been good looking: he had inherited most of the best physical attributes from himself and his mother. Padme had been considered almost universally beautiful, and Vader had been aware of the reaction he had caused on people when he had been in his physical prime. It was to be expected that Luke would grow up to be a handsome man. But to know that his son was objectively pretty was one thing, to be faced with the reality that other people could perceive him as attractive –even desirable– was another._

_"Are you sure those flowers are safe? You don't know where they came from."_

_Luke threw him an amused smile as he settled the vase with flowers in the center of the dining table. "Security already cleared them. And the card said they come from Naboo."_

_"And who is this_ gift _from?"_

_Luke raised an eyebrow, never losing his smile. "A secret admirer."_

_Vader sighed through his respirator. "But do you know_ who _that might be?"_

_His son turned his back to him, walking back to his room. Vader followed him close behind and into the walk-in closet, where almost a hundred different suits, tunics and robes were hanging in display. Vader observed his son fondly from behind the folding screen as he tried on different outfits for the incoming ball._

_"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you."_

_Vader huffed. "And why is that?"_

_"You're far too intense. I don't want you scaring them off."_

_Vader crossed his arms on his chest. He wasn't_ intense _, he just worried. Luke was everything to him, nothing and no one in the galaxy mattered more than his son. Nobody was worthy enough to deserve his attention, much less his romantic affections._

_"You look good in that one," Vader observed as Luke tried on yet another suit. This one had a teal tint, and a more form fitting waist. The color accentuated his skin tone nicely, and it brought out his eyes._

_Seemingly decided, Luke changed back to his sleeping robe, carefully separating the potential outfits for that evening, and sat down in front of his vanity._

_From the top of an old dresser Vader picked up a golden hairbrush with his gloved hands. He carefully extracted some loose blonde hairs and threw them into the nearby bin. Luke smiled sweetly at his father when he handed him the brush._

_"It's too long, I should have it cut soon," Luke said as he delicately brushed his golden hair, which fell in small waves from the top of his head to his shoulders._

_"I like it long," Vader said, melancholic, his eyes seeing Padme sitting in a similar vanity and brushing her own curls with the same grace as her son was doing now._

_"I know you do," Luke murmured. "I'll make a call for the stylist after lunch."_

If Vader had known then that only a week later his son would go missing, he would have done things differently. The signs had to have been there. He should have searched inside every single present box to make sure nothing was a threat to Luke’s safety. Those stupid flowers had been a sign. Someone had his eyes on Luke. Someone was watching. 

Vader had failed, and oh so spectacularly. Not only he had failed on hunting down the remaining Jedi, but in doing so he had doomed his only child. He needed to find him as soon as possible, before it was too late. The Emperor had insisted on keeping the incident a secret, claiming that mass panic would spread and the Empire would look weak. The Emperor himself would look weak. 

But time was ticking, and it was a matter of days before someone noticed Luke’s disappearance. His son had never been high profile, only making appearances inside the highest circles of Coruscant’s society, attending private academies and training only under Vader. But in more recent years his influence had grown significantly, if only on a superficial level. The fashion style of senators and socialites had shifted from standard Imperial mandated colors mixed with their own cultural customs to imitations or homages to Luke’s personal taste. As he walked the crowded hallways of the Senate building, Vader noticed several senators wearing clothing of different designs but in the same teal color Luke had worn to the last Imperial ball. Some of them had even cut their hair in the same style as Luke had, shorter on the sides and longer on the top. Luke’s style had been subtle, but these men had taken the it to an extreme, the sides of the hair in a fade that disappeared into nothing, similar to a more military style. 

It was clear that Luke was a well liked figure among the political landscape. Vader thought it was only natural: the Empire’s doctrine demanded adoration of their figureheads, and it was a lot easier to worship a handsome young prince like Luke than a wrinkly old Sith like Palpatine. 

Vader entered the Emperor’s office without announcing himself. His Master was expecting him, and he probably had sensed his presence since the moment he arrived on the system. 

“Vader, my old friend. Come, come.” 

The Emperor was crouching on his chair like a rotten plant. Vader approached his Master and knelt at his feet. 

“Master,” Vader said through his respirator, feeling the oppressive weight of his suit like a cage that kept him in line. 

“Rise, my friend. We have much to discuss.” 

Vader rose to his feet, feeling his bones ache. The exhaustion of a week without sleep was paying its price on his tortured body. He knew what Luke would say, that he should stop and rest before he collapsed, but he wasn’t around to tell him that. 

“It’s been brought to my attention that no new leads on the Prince’s wearabouts have appeared,” Sidious said with his hissing voice. “I fear we no longer will be able to contain this problem. Rumors are beginning to spread.”

Vader clenched his fists. “Rumors can be silenced.” 

His Master smiled, showing his yellow teeth. “Yes, precisely. Which is why I have authorized Grand Moff Tarkin to take… adequate action on the Lothal system.”

“Master?” 

“Too long have we allowed insurgence to fester on that system. The results are here, and our beloved Prince is missing because of our lack of solutions. We can't allow this to continue. Who knows what kind of horrors young Luke is being forced to endure?" Vader felt a whiplash of fear invade him, like acid. Sidious continued: "Tarkin has proposed a final solution: to test the Death Star on Lothal.” 

Vader… wasn’t completely against the idea. "Would they strike the Capital City?"

"No… I want the pathetic rebellion to feel the full power of our vengeance. Our message will be clear, and Lothal will be _silenced_." 

  
***

When the blast doors of his cell opened, Ezra didn’t bother to acknowledge the guards. If they were in for another round of torture and interrogation, he wouldn’t give in. He hadn’t so far, and he would die before he gave them the information they wanted. 

“Cuff him,” instructed one trooper to the other, and Ezra didn’t offer resistance. He was chained to the wall, and they had put a collar around his neck that would send electroshocks every time he tried to reach for his cell door. One particularly painful time, when he had tried to inspect the grillage that opened to the ventilation system, they had socked him so strongly he had passed out for several hours. Ezra hadn’t tried again. 

They dragged him through the hallway and into the elevators. Even if he had any strength left in his body, he still wouldn’t have resisted. Ezra was so, so tired. His body ached everywhere. He was hungry, and as the days passed, he was starting to lose hope that a rescue party would come for him. 

“Ah, Bridger!” greeted him the insufferable pompous voice of Grand Moff Tarkin as they entered the bridge. “Leave him here,” he indicated to the guards. 

The two troopers that were holding him by the arms threw him into the ground at Tarkin’s feet. Ezra resisted the temptation to stay on the floor, deciding he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him crack. Very painfully, he rose to his feet, and stared at Tarkin’s old and agulous face with disdain. 

“You’ve proven yourself to be quite a pain, Bridger. If I didn’t know better I would almost admire your determination. This is your last opportunity. Tell me: where is the Rebel base? Where have you taken the data disk?” 

Ezra remained silent. He moved his eyes from Tarkin and gazed through the large windows of the bridge. He saw a planet of familiar colors, and his heart sank to his stomach as he recognized it. 

“You won’t get him to talk, Governor,” a low and articulated voice called to their attention. Entering the bridge from a different corridor was Admiral Thrawn, escorted by several security officers, one of which was bringing Prince Luke in cuffs. “The Jedi are trained to resist interrogation. A strong mind is a crucial part of their… _enlightenment._ ”

Tarkin seemed bored by the explanation. “If he’s of no use, he will be terminated.” 

Ezra tried not to panic, but it was proving to be a difficult task. He was trapped inside a death machine with his biggest enemies. He didn’t have his lightsaber, and he wasn’t sure any of his friends knew if he had been captured. He was alone. 

“Your Highness,” continued Tarkin as he addressed Prince Luke, who in Ezra’s opinion, looked terrified. “I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now.” 

“Governor, that is not necessary,” Luke said, fighting against his restraints. “I demand to be brought back to Coruscant immediately! The Emperor won’t be very pleased to hear the conditions in which you've kept me.” 

Tarkin advanced towards the Prince, and forcefully grabbed his jaw between his fingers, obligating him to look him in the eye. “The Emperor himself has authorized this operation. And I am sure he will understand the need to teach you a lesson.” 

Luke tried to pull his face out of his clutches, and Tarkin increased the pressure on his cheeks, smiling cruelly. 

“That is enough, Governor,” intervened Thrawn with a glacial tone.

After a long and tense heartbeat, Tarkin dropped Luke’s face, who whined in pain and embarrassment. Then Tarkin turned to Ezra. He moved into his personal space, and if Ezra wasn’t tied by the wrists, he probably would have thrown him across the room.

“I am growing tired of asking this, so this will be the last time. Where is the Rebel base?” 

Ezra wished the power of his stare would be enough to melt this asshole's head from the inside out. Raging with fury, Ezra spat on his face. 

The reaction was immediate. Tarkin jumped back, wiping his face furiously, spouting out curses and yelling orders. The guards took Ezra by the arms and forced him to his knees, guns pointing at his nape. As he watched Tarkin clean himself with disgust, Ezra couldn’t help the smile of satisfaction that escaped him. 

“That settles it then. Commander, commence primary ignition.” 

“Governor Tarkin, I must protest,” Thrawn said from his place by the windows. At some point he had moved to stare at Lothal’s vast planes and small rivers. “The eradication of an entire culture will only further unrest, and the Rebels could use it as further argument for their cause. There are far more effective ways to–”

“–Silence!” demanded Tarkin. “You’ve had years to deal with the insurgence on Lothal! You’ve failed, Admiral. The Emperor himself has ordered this.” 

No. 

No, no, _no!_

Ezra wrestled against his restraints, desperation taking control of his body.

“You can do this!” Ezra shouted. 

“Governor, please, this is not necessary!” pleaded Luke. 

“I can and I will,” Tarkin gloated. “Commander, you may fire when ready!” 

“No, please, I will tell you anything, _please!”_ cried Ezra. His heart felt like it was going to explode at any second. 

“It’s too late now, my friend. I hope this teaches you a lesson.” 

“Commander, I am ordering you to stop this! Admiral, you have to _do_ _something!_ Stop this madness!!” Luke was imploring left and right, his demands falling on deaf ears. 

Ezra continued to plead in despair, rubbing his own wrists raw as he tried to set himself free. But it was all for nothing. 

He watched, frozen in horror, as a blinding green laser sliced space in half and touched the surface of the planet. In that millisecond of time, nothing was real. Then, a pain like nothing he had ever felt in his life, a pain Ezra hadn't even thought was possible to feel tore through his entire being. 

Ezra screamed in agony as his world burned and exploded in a thousand million pieces. He was being torn apart piece by piece, atom by atom. His mind was assaulted with the screams of a million lives, and the Force around him felt like an overcharged field of deadly energy collapsing on itself like a black hole.

And then, silence. 

Deafening silence. 

“Very well, I believe we can declare that a successful trial. Is that correct, Your Highness?” 

A trembling sob. “...You’re a monster.” 

A long sigh. “You’ve always been far too sensitive, too emotional. Maybe a change of clothes will cheer you up. Guards, escort the Prince to my quarters.” 

“I’ll personally escort the Prince, Governor,” Thrawn positioned himself between Luke and the Guards. 

“Very well. Don’t take too long.” 

Ezra heard the ends of that conversation through a fog of distortion. He barely noticed when the guards dragged him back to his cell, not offering any kind of resistance. 

There was no point. Nothing mattered anymore. The only thing he had left to wait was for Tarkin to finally have mercy on him and end his misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry... :) 
> 
> Leia is finally here!! All the major players are on the board now hehe.  
> Before you ask, yes, HK-29 is basically HK-47 from kotor, I just love that murderous droid so much.  
> There's a long road ahead from here! Everyone aboard the angst train >:D 
> 
> As always, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/softieskywalker) or [tumblr](https://softieskywalker.tumblr.com/). If you enjoyed please leave me a comment, I love reading what you guys think so far!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a loooong time to finish, between a couple of incidents and uni classes kicking my ass. It's shorter than I would have wanted, I had to split what I had into two, but I wanted the events to have the space they need and not rush everything to happen at once. But that also means the next chapter should be up soon :)  
> Thank you so much to everyone's support!

To say that Leia was confused was an understatement. Her uncle had transformed under her eyes, from a gentle and soft mannered guy, to a rigid and calculating man, his posture almost military-like. His eyes, usually graceful and sotf, and sometimes even lost in the ruminations of his own mind, were now laser focused on their guests. This was the Jedi General from the stories, Leia thought, the one that had fought countless battles side by side with her father back in the Clone Wars. 

"You are in possession of the plans to that battle station, then?" Ben asked as he scratched his beard with one hand and circled the small space between the beds in the guest room.

"Yes," Kanan answered. "That's why we need to rescue Ezra before we deliver them to the Rebellion. They'll plan to attack as soon as possible, and if Ezra is on board…" 

His voice trailed off, breaking at the idea of losing his apprentice. Leia felt a pang of sympathy for the man. 

"Do you have a ship?" Ben asked, sitting again by Leia's side. 

"Yes, the one we arrived here on," answered Sabine a little irritated. 

“Good. We’ll need another one.” 

Hera raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, defensive. “I think the _Ghost_ is a perfectly adequate ship.” 

Ben inclined his head at her, appeasing. “Yes, but we’ll need to separate in two groups. One to take the plans to the Rebel Alliance, and one to rescue your missing padawan.” 

Leia didn’t like the sound of that. Was Ben including himself on those plans? Was he including her? As if sensing her alarm, Ben put a hand on her back and continued on.

“If what you’re telling us is true, that information is too important to fall into the wrong hands. We cannot risk it by carrying it back to Imperial territory."

Kanan sat straighter on the bed, agitated. "Yes, but–"

"–Caleb," interrupted him Ben, not unkindly. "Organize your priorities. The life of your padawan is very valuable, but it's not more important than the millions of lives that weapon can destroy in just one strike." 

Leia could tell Kanan was not happy about it, but he didn't argue any further. His shoulders deflated, and he looked scared. Hera placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuring. 

Standing by the doors, Zeb intervened. 

"So that’s the plan, we do what the crazy old man says?" 

"Zeb!" scolded him Hera, "Be more respectful!" 

Ben didn't seem offended. He was almost amused. 

"We split on two groups,” he explained. “One returns the information back to your base. Make copies of it, if necessary. Do not lose it under _any_ circumstances. The other will have to infiltrate that station and rescue young Bridger." 

“And how exactly are we dividing ourselves?” Sabine grumbled. 

Leia was asking herself the same question.

Ben smiled gently at her. “Caleb, Leia and I will rescue your friend. The rest of you shall take your ship and return to your base.”

They immediately started to protest. Leia herself wanted to argue. Ben raised his hands on a peacemaking attempt. 

“If the station is as dangerous and well guarded as you claim, only those of us who possess training on the Force have a chance of succeeding.” 

“We’ve been to dangerous missions before,” argued Sabine. 

“I’m sure you have, young one. But this could define the fate of our galaxy as we know it. I’m trusting you with the most important task, after all.” 

That seemed to do the trick. Zeb and Sabine looked like they wanted to keep arguing, but Hera stopped them with a hand gesture. 

“Master Kenobi is right. The infiltration on Scarif was risky enough, and we barely made it out. Our duty to the Rebellion comes first. We need to take the plans back to Yavin. That’s what Ezra wanted,” she turned to Kanan. “Isn’t it?” 

Kanan took a long minute to answer. Then he let out a long breath and nodded. That renewed Hera with determination.

“It’s settled then. We’re not giving up on Ezra, but we’re not risking the plans either.” 

Leia thought it was time to intervene. They couldn't abandon their cantina like this, they had guests and employees who relied on them! They had worked hard for the simple and quiet life they had built there on Kabal, especially after having to leave Tatooine in such a hurry. She had never seen her uncle so scared in her life, after that confrontation with Maul. He hadn’t said anything, but she knew nightmares plaged him for years after that event. Leia didn't want something similar to happen again. 

But before she could express her concerns, something strange happened. A sudden cold wave ran down her back, like someone had dropped a bucket of ice water over her head. Leia saw Kanan visibly flinch as well, like an invisible person had slapped him across his face. Sitting beside her, Ben grabbed his chest painfully and closed his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Hera asked the three of them, alarmed at their sudden and strangely coordinated reaction. 

Leia had no idea how to respond. She felt inexplicably sad and empty, like she had lost a very esteemed childhood friend. 

“I felt a great disturbance in the Force,” Ben explained, his voice grave as a tomb, “as if millions of voices cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened.”

A heavy silence stretched between them. Leia was afraid to ask her uncle for clarification. She had a horrible suspicion about what the disturbance could have meant, and she dreaded the possibility of being right. 

Kanan raised his eyes, white and unseeing, and stated into the distance. His expression was of complete despair. 

"Ezra…" he whispered. "I could feel his pain through our bond." 

"All the way across the galaxy?" Hera asked, equal parts amazed and scared. 

Sabine covered her mouth with trembling fingers. "Do you think...?"

"No," Kanan assured her. "He's alive. I can feel it." 

"Then what the hell was that?" Zeb demanded. "All three of you wizards had a stroke at the same time." 

Leia exchanged a look with Ben, apprehensive. She was dreading he had reached the same conclusion as she had. 

"Isn't it obvious?" said Leia. "They've used it. They have used this weapon you're speaking of." 

Sabine was horrified. "So soon?"

Hera wrapped her arms around herself, dropping her eyes to the ground. "It makes sense. They have Ezra, they have Luke, they know we have the plans. It would make sense to strike now, before we could do something to stop them." 

"What planet?" Zeb asked, agitated. 

To that, Leia didn't have an answer. But she didn't have to guess. Kanan turned to Zeb with a grim expression.

"There's only one place who's loss would make Ezra feel so much pain I could feel it from the other side of the Galaxy…" 

They exchanged sad looks, and Zeb shrunk into the floor. Hera covered her face, trying to hide her tears. Sabine punched the wall behind her with the hand she didn't have in a cast.

Leia hated being left out of the loop. "Which planet?" 

Kanan turned his face at her, and he looked like he had aged ten years in the span of a couple of minutes.

He answered with infinite sadness. 

"Lothal." 

***

In theory, Luke knew that his legs were moving and that he was advancing through the cold and strangely deserted corridors of the Death Star, but his mind was elsewhere. His body moved on autopilot as Grand Admiral Thrawn guided him to their destination, with a firm but gentle grip on his elbow. Luke felt as a mere spectator trapped behind his eyes, an endless cycle of images playing through his mind. Distantly, he could recognize the early signs of his body going into shock, and an imminent panic attack threatening to clash down on him at any second and eat him from the inside out. 

He was taken to a spacious room, discreetly decorated with the minimalistic style allowed for Imperial officers. The room had a metal table in the center, filled with exotic foods and ready-to-serve drinks. On the right, a spacious and clinically ordered desk, and behind it a huge library of datapads and datadisks. A couple of expensive paintings on the walls were the only objects that indicated the opulence of the owner of the room.

“Sit here,” Thrawn indicated and guided him to a set of chairs by the desk. 

Luke sat clumsily on one of the chairs and stared at the floor. His hands were trembling. 

“I- I don’t…” his voice died down as tears threatened to spill and his throat closed off. 

He heard the Grand Admiral move around by the big table and come back with a glass full of water on his hands. He promptly moved the glass in front of Luke's face.

“Have some water.” 

Luke blinked rapidly and stared at the glass in front of his nose. Confused, he took it with shaking hands. 

“Thank you…?” 

Thrawn straightened his back and shifted his red gaze from his face to his hands. Luke rushed to drink from the glass, struggling to not spill anything. 

“This place is not safe for you, Your Highness,” declared the Grand Admiral, and made his way to the nearest wall to admire the paintings. 

Luke thought that there was no place in the galaxy safe for him anymore. The thought made him choke up again. 

“Why are you helping me?” Luke asked as he tried to wipe his face with the back of one hand. 

Thrawn didn't answer for a long minute. When he turned, he seemed very tense. 

“My loyalty is to the Emperor," Thrawn said slowly, "and by extension, to you. Not to Tarkin and his delusions of godly power.” 

He sputed the last sentence like venom through his teeth. 

Luke's mind kept circling around the events of the bridge. “You still didn’t do anything. He destroyed an entire planet–” 

“–Yes," Thrawn cut him off. "And it was inevitable.” 

“You could have done something!” Luke insisted, his voice cracking and his lower lip quivering. He hated how pathetic his voice sounded as he spoke, how little it made him feel.

“Like what, exactly?" challenged him Thrawn, raising a single eyebrow. "Show insubordination? Weep like a little child? Don’t insult me, Your Highness.” 

Ironically, Luke felt very insulted. He couldn't stop the sobs from shaking his body. “I- I had thought....” 

“ _Pull yourself together,_ ” Thrawn hissed at him, losing his patience. “This is not the time or place to have an emotional crisis. As I've said, this is not a safe place for you."

He kept repeating that. But Luke had no idea what to do. He felt so hopeless, so insignificant. He couldn't find solace in the Force, because all around him it felt like an open wound, raw and irritated. Maybe that was the reason why he couldn't control his emotions, because the Force itself had been violated out of its axis. Whatever was on Lothal, it obviously had been a planet incredibly strong on the Living Force. 

With an exasperated sigh, the Grand Admiral walked back to the table and found a handkerchief. He offered it to Luke, and watched him blow his nose and dry his face with mild disgust. 

Luke tried to calm down his breathing, feeling like a complete idiot. Here he was, weeping like a child in front of a high commanding officer, humiliating himself. Luckily for him, Thrawn had looked away and was studying the room with forced interest. 

"Search on the desk,” Thrawn said suddenly. “There you'll find Bridger’s Jedi weapon. The next time those brutes attack you, _defend_ _yourself_.” 

Luke watched his tense back with disbelief. 

“Why are you helping me?”

Thrawn didn’t answer for a long minute.

“My loyalty is to the Emperor,” he repeated. Luke wondered if by insisting on that idea, he was trying to convince himself. “I share his ideals of order for the prosperity of the Galaxy. But this…” his voice trailed off, and for the first time, Luke wondered what personal stakes could be affecting the Grand Admiral’s judgment. “This is genocide.” 

Luke didn’t answer. He looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly, as if that gesture could stop the tears from spilling again. He felt like such an idiot. 

“High Command lied to me,” Luke babbled indignantly. He wiped at his face, feeling renovated with righteous fury. “They said Project Stardust was decades away from completion.”

Thrawn turned to face him, and exasperation was back on his cold expression. 

“Be smart, Your Highness. If this project was brought to light, if the Senate ever got a glimpse of evidence that it existed, it would be the political downfall of the Emperor. The only way to ensure a peaceful succession of power would be for you to be in the dark about this. It was imperative for you to be unimpeachable.” 

Luke thought that was the biggest pile of bantha shit he had ever heard. 

“I have a hard time believing you.” 

“You don’t have to believe me. I have done everything in my power to prevent this project from reaching its conclusion, and I’m afraid to say I underestimated Governor Tarkin.” He pressed his lips together in annoyance. “It is done now. And if what I’m assuming it’s correct, the Rebel Alliance is now in possession of the plans of this battle station, thanks to your cooperation.” 

Luke crossed his arms around his body, feeling defenceless. “I did what I had to do to survive. And I did it under the belief that this project was not–” 

“–What is done is done,” Thrawn silenced him. “The Rebels have the plans and I have no doubt in my mind that they will find a vulnerability to exploit and strike at the first opportunity. This place is not safe for you anymore, Your Highness.” 

Luke dropped his shoulders and nodded in agreement. 

“I have contacted Lord Vader and informed him of your presence here. He was particularly interested in the timeline of events, and why Governor Tarkin had failed to inform him of your whereabouts. He is on his way.” 

At this, Luke almost jumped from his seat. He stared at the Grand Admiral, trying to read anything from his words that could indicate that he knew more than what he was authorised to know. Thrawn didn’t even acknowledge him, and turned to leave the room. 

“I will be returning to _The Chimera_ for the time being. If you wish to preserve anything from Lothal and it’s legacy… I recommend that when you leave, take Bridger with you.” 

He pressed the codes to the door, making a show of pressing the buttons so Luke would be able to remember the series of numbers, and left the room without adding another word. 

***

The next morning Leia had the unfortunate task of kicking every single one of their guests from out of their rooms, alleging problems with a gas leak. Most of them only went on their way with curses and a terrible mood, but a couple tried to fight for their right to stay. They would assume that because of Leia’s short stature she was no threat, and they could try to intimidate her. They didn’t make that mistake twice. 

Leia spent the rest of the morning around town running errands, cancelling orders and paying off debts. She visited friend’s houses and gave them contradictory information about their destination. To some she told about vacation she was taking, to others that Ben was falling ill and they were travelling to find a good medic, and the rest that she had a distant relative who had passed away and the family needed support. She took out all their money from the safe on the attic and divided it between the several inner pockets in her clothes. 

When they left the cantina behind, Leia felt sad. She had a feeling they wouldn’t return for a very long time. 

She and Ben reunited with Kanan by the commercial hangar. He informed them the rest of his crew had already parted on their way to Yavin, and eyed the line of ships with reluctant curiosity. 

“Are we buying a ship?” he asked. 

Leia smiled at his naivety. 

“Not at all. My contact should be here soon. He’s taking us free of cost.” 

Kanan didn’t seem convinced. “Is he trustworthy?” 

Leia made an awkward gesture. “He’s not a pirate, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“It’s not.” 

Ben sighed. “Leia, is this one of your _friends?”_

She smiled mischievously. “Han owes me. A lot. He’s smart enough to take the opportunity. And I do trust Chewbacca, he’s a noble guy.” 

Kanan shook his head. “And I thought Ezra was a trouble magnet…” 

It was almost an hour later when the ship finally arrived. The bucket of bolts and poorly assembled pieces that was the _Millennium Falcon_ landed on a deck close to them. Leia guided Kanan and her uncle to the descending platform where a very annoyed Han Solo greeted them. 

“Skywalker!” called Han. “You better have a very good reason for making me abandon my duties in the middle of a very important job–” 

Leia rolled her eyes. 

“–I’m sure it was very important. Listen, I need transport.” 

Han looked at her incredulous. “And you need _me_ because…?” 

“Because you have a fast ship. And if you take me and my companions to where I ask, I would consider all your debt to me paid off.” 

Han considered her words for a long minute. His eyes trailed from her to Ben and then Kanan, sizing them up. He knew she alone was capable of taking him, and he had learned the hard way not to underestimate Force sensitives. Even if he was too obtuse to actually understand or respect the Force itself. 

“What’s the catch?” 

Leia smiled, knowing she had already won. 

“There is no catch. We have security clearance to the place we're going.” 

Or at least, that’s what Kanan had said. Han raised an eyebrow at her, not believing her for a second, but he didn't argue again.

“Alright,” he accepted, resigned to his fate. “Come aboard, we don’t have all day.” 

He turned around and disappeared through the landing platform. 

“Pleasant fellow,” commented Kanan, and followed Han up the platform with careful steps. 

Before they could board, Leia took her uncle aside. 

"Why are we helping these people?"

Ben raised a single eyebrow at her.

"Leia, you brought them to us," he reminded her.

"Yes,” she conceded, “to stay the night. Not to fly across the galaxy on a suicide mission. Why are we helping them? Is there something you're not telling me?”

Ben seemed uncomfortable. 

"Can't you trust I know what I'm doing?"

Leia puffed in frustration. "I do trust you. And you know I'd follow you anywhere, uncle Ben. But I'm not a child anymore, and if we're doing this, I deserve to know why." 

He studied her for a long minute, with that strange look that always made Leia feel like he could read her mind. Leia tried to scold her expression into one of confidence, and stared back with the same intensity. Then, he smiled at her, almost defeated. 

"You're right,” Ben said softly. “I'm not treating you fairly, little one. The reason why is the Prince." 

Leia was not expecting that answer. "...You want to collect on the bounty? But isn't he already in Imperial custody?" 

"No,” Ben answered gravely. “I have to take him out of that station before the Alliance blows it up to pieces." 

"You want to save his life," Leia realized.

"Well, yes."

"...Why, exactly?"

A look that was a mixture between longing and sadness took possession of Ben’s face. He usually wore that expression whenever she asked about his past, and especially about her father. 

"I made a promise to his mother a long time ago that I would keep her children safe. I haven't kept my end of the bargain, not completely."

Leia frowned, surprised by his answer. "Prince Amidala's mother? You knew her?"

Ben crossed an arm over his chest and held his chin with the other arm, scratching his beard, pensive.

"Yes, we were friends, once. I first met Padmé when she was Queen Amidala of Naboo, and we kept in contact when she was a Senator for that system in the Galactic Senate. Your father and I were assigned to her as bodyguards shortly before the beginning of the war." 

That sparked Leia’s interest. 

"My father knew her?" she asked eagerly. 

Ben seemed to regret mentioning Anakin, as he did every time the subject was brought to light. Leia didn’t care, she was hungry for any new piece of information.

"...Yes." 

"Were they friends?" 

Ben made a strange face. "I think so." 

"So the Prince is the son of a friend of yours and my dad's.” Leia bounced this information in her mind, evaluating it. The conclusion was easy to reach. “Alright, we're rescuing him,” she decided. “Or kidnapping him. Again."

Her uncle grimaced at her words. "You're on board with this, then?"

"Yes."

Han appeared again on the ship's entrance. “Hey, you two better board before I change my mind!” 

“We’re going, we’re going!” answered Leia. Han scoffed and walked off.

A slow smile grew on Ben’s face. "I'm surprised I didn't need to convince you further." 

Leia returned the smile.

"Your little sob story was convincing enough. C'mon, we need to go before Chewie decides we're too much trouble and leaves." 

She marched the ramp and boarded the ship with determined steps. 

Obi-Wan observed Leia go, feeling a heavy weight settling on his heart. 

"Always on the move…" he whispered, and boarded the _Falcon_ with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up in a couple of days :D
> 
> As always, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/softieskywalker) or [tumblr](https://softieskywalker.tumblr.com/). If you enjoyed please leave me a comment, I love reading what you guys think so far!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I have no real excuse except life happens :D Between jewish festivities, my recent birthday, and uni classes starting again, I put off finishing this chapter for way too long. I think it was for the best tho, I had to make structural fixes to the story as a whole.  
> This time I won't make promises regarding posting because I don't want to lie again, lol. Just know, this story is being actively worked on, it just takes time :) Also this is officially the longest piece of writing I've done in a language that's not my native language, so I'm really proud of that.
> 
> Thanks everyone for the support, for the patience, and enjoy this long chapter!
> 
> ps: I literally know nothing about computers so don't look too closely to the bullshit I made up for this chapter lol

Leia tried not to let her amusement show in her face as she watched Ben slowly beat Chewbacca in a game of dejarik. The wookie seemed extremely frustrated with the results and expressed his deep annoyance with a series of growls. 

“Don’t be a sore loser, Chewie,” Leia said, biting down a smile.

Chewbacca growled at her. “ _Stay out of this._ ” 

Sitting beside her, Kanan shifted uncomfortably. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to provoke the wookie.” 

Leia smiled smugly at him. “His name is Chewbacca and he’s my friend.” 

Kanan sighed. “Yes, and he also triples you in size and volume. Don’t provoke him.” 

Leia would have argued that most people doubled her in size, and that had never stopped her before. But before she could say anything else, Ben made his final move on the game and closed his hands on the table.

“It looks like I win.” 

Chewie growled indignantly at him, and shut off the game with more force than necessary. As Ben got up from his seat, Han entered the main hold of the ship.

“Hey sweetheart,” he said to Leia, “tell your grandpa we’re reaching the coordinates.” 

And with that he turned around and returned to the cockpit. Leia rolled her eyes. 

“ _Grandpa?"_ Kanan asked, confused. 

“I’m sure he was referring to me,” Ben said cheerfully. Leia smiled at him, fond of his antics. 

“C’mon Chewie,” Leia said getting up from her seat, “Captain Asshole gets cranky when nobody pays attention to him.” 

“ _Language_ , Leia…” scolded her Ben with no real energy to it. 

Leia sent him a smile, and followed Han to the cockpit of the _Falcon_. She found him sprawled on the pilot seat, checking the readings on the navigation computer. His eyebrows were furrowed, concentrated on his task, and a rebel strand of hair was falling over his eyes. Leia was deeply irritated by the fact that she found Han so attractive. 

“That’s new,” Han said. “There’s no asteroid field in the charts of the Lothal system.” 

Leia saw through the windows huge pieces of rock floating in every direction. Han hurried to grab the controls and dodge the asteroids heading their way. 

At that moment Kanan, Chewie and Ben entered the cockpit. Chewie took the co-pilot seat and helped Han maneuver them through space. 

“Because that’s not an asteroid field,” Kanan said gravely. 

“Whatever you say,” Han replied through gritted teeth, as they dodged a particularly big asteroid. 

Chewie growled at him, redirecting power to the engines. 

“There’s nothing left…” whispered Leia. Hundreds of thousands asteroids wandered around the blackness where just yesterday there had been a planet. Leia could feel a strange wrongness about that place. A deep, cold anomaly that couldn’t be explained by the coldness of space. It was a coldness in the Force. 

“There,” Kanan signaled through the asteroids to what looked like a small moon. “That’s the battle station.” 

“That?” Han asked. “It’s way too big to be a battle station.” 

“Oh, this one is special.”

Leia shuddered. Next to her, Ben touched her softly on the shoulder, offering comfort. 

They approached the Death Star with a torturing slow pace, dodging asteroids. When the station was big enough on their window that they could distinguish the entry points to the numerous hangars, a voice chimed in on their comms. 

“ _Cargo ship YT-1300f, identify yourself.”_

“Alright, princess, time to use the magical code,” Han said, skeptical. 

Leia crossed her arms. “Call me “princess” again and I’ll make you eat your own shoes.” 

Han jumped in his seat, and then pretended like he didn’t think she was capable of doing exactly that. 

“Yeesh, alright. Just put the codes before they shoot us down.” 

Leia stared at him silently until Han looked away. Then she turned to the man to her right. “Kanan?” 

Kanan approached the console. Chewie guided his hands to the numerals and after a second, Kanan started to type a long and complicated code series. 

Chewie growled, worried. “ _That’s a long code._ ” 

“Did you have that memorized?” Han asked, acting like he wasn’t impressed. 

“I thought it might come in handy,” answered Kanan, and walked to the back of the room. 

After a tense minute, the voice on the comms chimed in again. “ _Cargo ship YT-1300f you’re clear for landing on the south hangar._ ” 

Leia sighed with relief. Ben gestured to her and Kanan to follow him back to the main hold to get ready, while Han and Chewie took the ship into their designated hangar. 

As they descended into the station, Leia couldn’t help but feel an imminent sense of dread. What would happen if they couldn’t find Ezra? Or the Prince? What kind of security would be waiting for them, what would they need to reach their objective? 

Kanan seemed in his element, having done infiltrations like this several times before. Leia was sure her uncle had done the same in his youth fighting for the Republic, but he wasn’t a young knight anymore. 

The ship landed inside the hangar, and they waited for the inspection crew to board the _Falcon_. Once inside, Ben sent the three stormtroopers to sleep with a powerful mind trick. Leia took off their armor and struggled to put it on, feeling like the pieces would eat up her small frame. 

When they were ready, Han and Chewie walked into the hold to check on them.

“Stay here,” instructed Kanan. “Keep your comms on, and be ready for departure in about an hour.”

Han crossed his arms. “And if you don’t come back?” 

Kanan sighed and handed him a small data chip.

“This is one of the Alliance’s frequencies. Keep that channel open. If you hear them getting closer, leave.” 

Han took the chip with reluctance, but nodded. Next to him, Chewie growled at Leia. 

“ _Be careful._ ” 

Leia smiled at him, and put on her helmet.

“You too.” 

She took the lead and headed down the ramp. Kanan and Ben followed her, and together they ventured into the Death Star. 

***

Luke sat in that cold office for a very long time, thinking. His mind kept running in circles, never able to reach a conclusion, and he was exhausted. 

He had a choice to make. Something in his gut was telling him to run, to listen to Grand Admiral Thrawn and take his fist chance at an escape. But he knew that if he escaped now, after the accusations Tarkin had thrown at him… There was a high chance his loyalty would be in question. And disloyalty was not something the Emperor tolerated in the slightest. Luke had seen highly regarded officers lose their heads over a poorly timed joke. 

Another problem was his Father, who at that very moment was on his way. Luke could feel his ferocious presence pulling at the other end of their bond, trying to reach him. He had suppressed it for the past couple of weeks, blocking Vader off from his mind to prevent a distraction. Initially it had been unintentional, the bond cut off by the Force restraining handcuffs. But when Kanan had gotten them off, Luke didn’t feel the need to reopen the bond. He had felt extremely guilty about it, but relieved at the same time. For the first time in years, the overbearing presence of his Father was not at the back of his mind. Luke was almost ashamed to admit that without it he had felt… free. 

And if his Father found him now, that freedom would go away. Maybe forever.

His choice was made. Luke had to leave the station, immediately. He would find a ship, run away, find an Imperial outpost as far away as possible… and decide from there. He would have to come up with an excuse to justify himself, and a very good one. He was only delaying the inevitable. But if he failed… his life was on the line. 

Taking deep breaths, Luke stood up from his seat. He stretched his limbs, trying to will his hands to stop trembling, and walked into the refresher to wash his face. 

The water was cold against his skin, but it was comforting. In the mirror, his reflection was pale and dejected. His hair was a mess, and his clothes looked dirty and rumpled. Strangely, Luke felt like a child, scared and lost when left on his own. 

The perspective of escaping terrified him. But every second he spent feeling sorry for himself, was a second the Rebels got closer to unlocking a way to destroy the station. He had handed them the plans on a silver plate, he was not going to make it even easier by letting them blow it up with him on board. 

A slow wave of guilt washed over him as he remembered Ezra. He had to be in the detention level, probably being interrogated and… probably even tortured. Stars, his entire planet had been destroyed. In the bridge, Luke had felt his pain like an abrasive flame, almost destructive in its power. Luke couldn’t just… leave him to rot. 

He would need to find where he was in the first place. Aiding the Rebellion in hostage negotiation was one thing, but actively liberating a prisoner? Luke would need to cover up his tracks. A quick stop by the communications chamber would be necessary. Take down cameras, comms, data transfer… 

If that delayed his Father’s arrival, it was only a plus. 

Luke was about to leave the room when he remembered something. Thrawn had mentioned something about Ezra’s lightsaber? Inside the desk if he wasn’t mistaken… 

He rummaged through the desk’s drawers, between datapads, datachips, pens, random artifacts. Nothing. Until the last drawer, which he found closed. Using a small wire he found in the other drawers, Luke picked the lock and pulled the bottom drawer out. 

There he found a slim, worn, and very used lightsaber. Luke took it out of the drawer and examined it up close. He ignited the green blade and swung it around experimentally. The handle was too heavy for his taste, and the length of the blade too long for his stature. But it would have to do. Luke turned off the blade and clipped the lightsaber to his belt. 

As soon as he exited the office, Luke let out a deep breath. He found the closest computer terminal and tinkered around with the controls until he found a map of the station. 

The communications chamber wasn’t very far away, but the detention level was several floors down. He would have to be quick and effective. 

Luke hurried to the turbolift at the end of the hallway and made his way down. The doors opened to his destination’s floor and he ran out of there. He made two lefts and three rights until he finally reached the doors to the comms chamber. There he found a single guard trooper, who jumped in place, startled.

“Stop there!” 

“I am supposed to be here,” Luke said, staring at the trooper in the eyes, inflicting heavy intention into his words, “Grand Admiral Thrawn authorized me to be here. He wouldn't like to know you’re obstructing my duties.” 

The trooper was a little cross-eyed. “Of course, sir!”

“You’re very tired. You probably need a break.” 

“Yeah…” said the trooper, and held back a yawn. “I’ll probably take my break now…” 

Luke observed him disappear at the end of the hallway. Shaking his head, he entered the chamber. The room was bigger than he expected, filled to the ceiling with screens, and droids operating the terminals. Only the master computer was being operated by an officer, who Luke suggested it would be nice to get a cup of caf at the cafeteria. When the officer was gone, Luke got to work.

Getting inside the system was easy. Leaving without trace was the challenge. He checked for all prisoner information and found that Ezra was being kept on the highest security level, cell 2185. He was also… scheduled for execution. 

_Shit._ Luke decided slicing into the system was the only way. He changed the schedule to the next day, and that hopefully would buy him some time. 

Slowly, one by one, he took down the camera feeds. Luke couldn’t simply deactivate them, so he fed the security server a loop of the last week’s recordings. Once that was done, he stopped all data transfer from the station to any other Imperial outpost. That wouldn’t take much time for them to notice, but once they did, it would be their highest priority and it would take their attention away from anything else. Nobody would want to be the poor intern who took too long to deliver a message from High Command. 

Finally, Luke cut off the internal communication system by forcing the entire network to reboot. He masked the operation as a self defence protocol in the presence of a virus, because that way the engineers wouldn’t risk stopping the reboot without losing large pieces of data. The entire process would take about four hours and by the time they could even attempt to fix the issue, Luke would be long gone. Or at least, he hoped so. 

Luke deleted all traces of his log in at that terminal and exited the communication chamber feeling like a rabid animal, filled with energy and ready to unleash himself into the wildness. The adrenaline rush of causing just pure chaos into the stupidly bureaucratic system of the military was strangely satisfying. Is this what being a rebellious teen felt like? Luke had never had a particularly rebellious phase, but if this was what it felt like, he had been missing out. 

The detention level was several floors down. Luke could already see entire squads of troopers running through the hallways from one place to another, carrying datapads and harassing techs into working faster. In the midst of the chaos, Luke made his way down several floors, avoiding detection. 

He let the Force guide him for a while. Luke hadn’t memorized the map of the Death Star, with a station that big it was practically impossible. A particular hallway called to him, and he turned to his right. 

Luke stopped dead in his tracks. At the end of that hallway he saw three stormtroopers walking in his direction, but their combined presence in the Force was so intense it was impossible for any of them to be simple troopers. Luke ignited Bridger’s lightsaber, the green blade illuminating the hallway, and pointed the saber at them. 

“Stop!” Luke demanded. 

The three troopers slowed down their pace and stopped a few meters close to him. He could sense their shock, and Luke reinforced his mental shields against them. He waved the green lightsaber around, taking a defensive stance, daring them to come closer. 

The trooper in the middle raised his hands and took off his helmet from his head. Luke took a step back. 

_"Kanan?"_ Luke asked, incredulous. 

The Jedi Master didn’t look much different since the last time they had seen each other on Scarif. Luke could sense an edge of anxiousness from him. 

"Luke! I'm glad to see you,” Kanan exclaimed. Luke wasn’t sure he shared that sentiment. The Jedi tilted his head and seemed to search for something with his blind gaze. “Is that Ezra's lightsaber?" 

Luke almost felt embarrassed. "...Maybe.” He turned to the other two troopers who accompanied Kanan. “Who are you?"

The trooper to Kanan’s right, who was not very tall and looked incredibly small next to him, took off her helmet and shook her head, her brown hair flying out in every direction.

"I'm Leia Skywalker,” she introduced herself, “and I'm here to rescue you!"

That was highly questionable. Luke raised an eyebrow. 

"I don't need rescuing." 

"Are you sure?” asked Leia, and pointed out behind him. “Those guys seem pretty pissed." 

From the other side of the hallway Luke could hear several stormtroopers approaching, shouting orders between themselves. He reached the panel controls to his right and closed the blast doors behind him, blocking them off. 

"I can handle it." 

Leia studied him with an analytic gaze, probably judging his disheveled appearance. 

"I can see that."

Kanan came a few steps closer to him, a worried expression on his face. 

"Luke, where is Ezra?" 

A sudden wave of guilt crawled up Luke’s throat and threatened to drown him. He struggled to push it to the back of his mind. 

"Why would I tell you that?" 

The third trooper, who had taken his helmet off, was a very old man of average stature, silver hair and beard, and striking blue eyes. 

"Because you were already on your way to rescue him," said the old man. He spoke with a hint of a Coruscanti accent, eloquent and charming. Something about that man deeply unsettled Luke.

"What makes you think that?" Luke said defensively. 

The man didn’t offer an explanation. He simply exchanged looks with Leia, who seemed amused at his expense. 

"Luke,” continued Kanan, his voice dropping in a gentle tone, “we can get you out of here. You could be safe with us." 

A mixture of fear, guilt and cold anxiety sank deep in his chest. 

"You're just saying that to capture me again!" hissed Luke. He raised the saber again, pointing it to Kanan’s chest.

"No,” insisted Kanan. He raised his palms in a peacekeeping attempt. “Capturing you was wrong, but it was a necessary evil. What I'm offering now is different. I'm offering you a way out. Whatever Vader and the Emperor have planned for you, we could keep you safe." 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Yes, _I know_. We can protect you.”

Luke didn't answer right away, shaken with fear. Kanan's kind presence was burning him, it was too much. What he was offering sounded exactly like everything he wanted but didn’t allow himself to admit. A chance at freedom. To decide what to do with his life and not have everything micromanaged by his Father. To not fear the day the Emperor saw one too many flaws on him, and decided he didn’t need an heir after all. 

He avoided Kanan’s glassy eyes and watched his other companions. Leia had her arms crossed on her chest. She looked impatient, her presence like a fresh wind announcing a storm. The old man was quietly observing him, his expression unreadable, his force signature strong as a fortress. 

"I just want out of this place," Luke admitted finally, deactivating the lightsaber. Kanan's shoulders dropped with relief. 

"Good, that’s good. We have a ship waiting. Just tell me where I can find Ezra."

Luke’s mouth tasted like ash. 

"On the detention block. Holding cell 2185." 

"Thank you,” Kanan said, and gently patted him on the shoulder. “Our ship is by the south hangar. Tell the pilot I sent you."

With his heart hammering inside his chest, and before he could think twice and regret his impulsive decision, Luke handed Kanan the lightsaber. 

"Here. You're gonna need it more than me.”

For the first time in the short time they had known each other, Luke saw Kanan speechless. He felt him reaching out to him through the Force, and Luke allowed him to see the honesty of his intentions. He didn’t let him see anything else.

That seemed to be enough for Kanan.

"Thank you," he said, and took the lightsaber from his hands. “We’ll see each other in half an hour.” 

Kanan gestured to the other two and they followed him into the turbolifts. He turned at the last second and smiled in Luke’s general direction.

“May the Force be with you.” 

The turbolift’s doors closed with a hiss, and the three of them disappeared from his view. 

***

  
Ezra had given up on sleep. At first, the wildstorm of his mind and the deep, aching pain that weighed his soul wouldn’t let him. But even when exhaustion had won the battle, nightmares would wake him up in a matter of minutes. Or hours. He had lost any real semblance of time. 

He had been avoiding thinking about Lothal. He couldn't help it, Ezra feared if he opened that particular box, he would get drowned by his own grief. The loss felt so incomprehensibly monumental, beyond human pain. 

A series of noises outside of his cell startled him from his stupor. If he wasn't mistaken, it had been a couple of hours since the last interrogation. They shouldn't be back so soon. 

The blast door of his cell opened revealing three stormtroopers of strange height difference. 

“You can tell your boss you're wasting your time," Ezra bit out, "I’m not telling you shit.” 

The tallest of the stormtroopers walked inside the cell and took off his helmet.

“Hey kiddo,” greeted him the warm voice of his Master.

_“Kanan!”_

Ezra got up from the bench. Kanan activated his blue lightsaber and cut Ezra’s handcuffs. The second he was free, Ezra threw himself into Kanan's arms, who enveloped him into a fierce hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Ezra clenched his arms tightly around him, relief mixed with sadness overwhelming him.

“They–" his voice broke, and he tried to block back his tears. "Kanan, _Lothal is gone.”_

His Master hugged him closer, and put a comforting hand on his head, petting his –honestly, disgustingly dirty– hair. “I know.” 

Ezra couldn't help it, he let out a sob, and hid his face on Kanan's neck. The weight of the loss felt like it would split him in half. 

“It’s ok," Kanan whispered in his ear, "you’re safe now.”

“Not yet," a female voice intervened behind them. "We need to get out of here.” 

Ezra detangled himself from his Master's arms and quickly wiped his face with the back of his hands. He turned to the source of the voice and saw the other two stormtroopers –Kanan's friends by the looks of it– had taken off their helmets. The one who had talked was a brunette woman who barely reached Ezra's shoulders. She was, in Ezra's opinion, fairly good looking, and she shined like a warm breeze in the Force. 

“Oh, hello.” 

By her side, an old man with a gentle expression, that he recognized almost immediately, greeted him as well. “Hello, Ezra.”

“Master Kenobi!” 

“You’ve grown so much since the last time we shared stories, my young friend.”

“And you look just the same," Ezra offered him an almost smile. "What are you doing here?” 

“We’re rescuing you," told him the woman, and she offered him a hand to shake. "Hi, I’m Leia Skywalker. Ben’s padawan.” 

At that, Ezra allowed himself to smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. He shook her hand firmly.

“Ezra Bridger. Kanan’s padawan.” 

He could feel the embarrassment pouring out of his Master. 

“This is all really nice," said Kanan, "but we should really get out of here.”

Leia and Master Kenobi were the first ones to leave the cell. Before Ezra could follow them, Kanan stopped him.

"Wait, I have something for you."

Ezra frowned, confused. Kanan extended a hand and offered him…

"My lightsaber! Where did you find this?" 

Kanan only smiled. 

"Don't lose it again. Remember: that weapon is–"

"–My life. I know, I know." 

“Hey, we seriously need to go!” Leia called from the hallway. 

Kanan helped Ezra out of the cell. Several guards were lying unconscious on the floor around the other two. Leia gestured at them to come closer. 

“I think the comms in the station are down. The rest of the guards ran out when nobody would answer their pleas for backup.” 

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “That’s convenient.” 

Master Kenobi smiled, almost mischievously. 

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Kanan and Kenobi exchanged a knowing look. Perplexed, Ezra frowned at Leia in a silent question. She shrugged. 

  
***

Finding the south hangar took longer than Luke had expected. By the time he had found the entrance to the hangar, half an hour had gone by. The station's staff was in such a state of disarray that he hadn't been stopped and questioned even once. Most people were focused on not losing their jobs, or worse, their heads. Luke could only guess the kind of rage and frustration Tarkin and his officers were experiencing, and that made his day a little better. 

Inside the hangar he found several TIE fighters, transport shuttles, and one particular Corellian class freighter that looked like it had been rescued from a junkyard on Jakku. 

It had to be that one. 

Sneaking behind a pile of crates, Luke circled around the TIEs and headed for the ship. The landing ramp was down, which he quickly took advantage of and ran inside. 

Luke was walking practically on his tiptoes. He didn't know who or what he was going to find inside. 

The main hold was deserted. Expanding his senses, he could feel two presences in the general direction of what he guessed to be the cockpit. Pilot and Co-pilot. 

Luke explored around the room, curiosity getting the best of him. Who were these people? The _Ghost_ was kept in optimal condition, excepting maybe for that cranky droid, and its crew had been experienced, even if a little unprofessional. This ship looked like it was held together by thin wires and duct tape. But again, who was Luke to judge the professionalism of Rebel agents?

Distracted as he was, Luke didn't notice the small stool on his way and he tripped over it, falling to the floor. 

A growl came from the cockpit, which Luke recognized as a wookie speaking shyriiwook. 

_“Did you hear that?_ ” 

“Hear what?” an irritated male voice answered.

“ _I_ _heard something, like footsteps._ ” 

The man sighed. “I’ll go check it out.” 

Alarmed, Luke got up from the floor and ran to the closest door he could find. He hid inside what looked like a pantry, between ration bars and other supplies, and closed the door just enough to see through a small crack. He felt incredibly stupid.

Footsteps approached and Luke saw a guy walked in the main hold with a blaster on his hand. He was tall, scruffy, and handsome in a way that promised trouble. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and he was wearing a regular smuggler outfit. 

Luke closed his eyes and tried to make his breathing as silent as possible. His heart was hammering inside his chest. 

For a second, he thought the man had walked past and gone deeper inside the ship. Then, the door of the pantry opened and a pair of furry claws grabbed Luke by the back of the neck. 

The wookie dragged him out of the pantry and held him up in the air. Luke shook his legs around uselessly, trying in vain to get free.

“Hey! Let me go!!” 

The man walked slowly to him, pointing with his blaster to Luke's head.

“What do we have here?” 

“Let. Me. Go!” Luke demanded.

The wookie roared a laugh and dropped him to the ground. Luke fell with a painful thud, and then scurried to stand up again. 

“What’s your name, kid?” the man asked

Luke didn't see a point in lying. 

“Luke.”

The man waved his gun. “Luke what?”

But there was no point being completely honest either. 

“...Just Luke.” 

“Alright, Just Luke, what brings you to my ship on this wonderful evening?” 

“I just–”

“And don’t lie to me," the man cut him off, "or my friend over here will convince you to tell the truth.”

The wookie huffed in what Luke interpreted as a threat. 

Luke sighed. “Kanan sent me.”

“ _Kanan_ sent you.” 

“Kanan? Tall, blind, all mystical and annoying?”

The man and the wookie exchanged a knowing look. “And why did he send you?” 

“I’m just trying to escape the station, that’s all.” 

The man looked up at the ceiling, Luke guessed counting to ten, and then murmured: "Why do I feel like this is Skywalker's fault?"

The wookie petted Luke on the head, which was ridiculous but strangely comforting, and the man rolled his eyes. 

“Fine. But if you cause any trouble…”

His threat was cut off by a voice coming from his communicator. 

_“Kanan? Kanan are you there? Hello?”_

The man brought the comm to his mouth. “Hi, this is Han Solo, Captain of the Millenium Falcon. Kanan is not here. Who are you?” 

For a few seconds, there was only static from the other end. Then the voice answered, demanding.

_“I’m General Hera Syndulla. Where is Kanan?”_

Han shrugged. “Inside the station, I think he’s looking for Enzo…?”

_“–Ezra.”_

“Yeah, that guy. He took the girl and her grandpa to search for him.” 

A few seconds of silence. _“Leia and Master Kenobi?”_

The wookie chucked, amused.

“Yeah, them.”

Clearly irritated, Hera continued. _“I have an urgent message for them.”_

Han scratched his head. “I could try and patch you through…?” 

_“There’s no time. Just pass along the message.”_

“Alright…" 

_“Tell them the analysts found a flaw. The reactor has a module that if hit will cause a chain reaction that would completely destroy the station. The module connects with an exhaust port, which they’re planning on hitting from the outside.”_

Luke's blood ran cold. Han opened his eyes like plates. 

“They’re attacking right now?!" 

_“Yes, but I’m estimating about three hours until any Rebel ships reach the system. Tell Kanan to try and place ion bombs inside the reactor chamber and activate them remotely from the ship.”_

“That’s- that’s insane!” 

Luke had to agree.

_“Better than the alternative.”_

“Well I don’t–” sputtered Han.

_“Just relay the message.”_

“Fine.”

 _“Thank you,”_ Hera said, and cut off the call. 

***

They wandered through several hallways and floors, almost aimlessly. The entire station seemed to be in complete chaos. Ezra had no idea what they had done to spark such disarray, but he was impressed. 

“Do we even know where we’re going?” he asked, getting worried. 

Kanan shot him an unimpressed look. “Yes, Ezra. We’re just avoiding detection.” 

Ezra was thinking of a witty rebuttal when Kanan’s comm chirped to life. 

_“Uh, Kanan?”_

Frowning, Kanan answered the call. “Yes, Han, I hear you. Is everything ok?” 

Leia, Kenobi and Ezra stopped, standing in a circle around Kanan. 

_“I have an urgent message from a Hera Syndulla?”_

_Hera!_ Ezra almost jumped with enthusiasm. Kanan sent him a sharp look.

“Yes, what is it?”

_“She says the analysts have found a flaw. She says to find the reactor chamber, that there’s a particular module connected to an exhaust port, and if hit, it will cause chain reaction that will destroy the entire station. She said you should put ion bombs and detonate it remotely from the ship, once we’re out.”_

Kanan closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Is the Alliance on their way?” 

Ezra heard the roar of a wookie through the comm. _“Yes! She said they’re attacking in about three hours.”_

Kanan paled considerably. “Ok. Get the _Falcon_ ready for departure.” 

_“Yes sir,_ ” said Han, and cut the communication. 

Ezra looked at Kanan nervously. 

“Do we even have ion bombs?” 

Kanan grimaced. “Not really.” 

“Then how are we going to do that!” 

“We could use their own bombs,” reasoned Leia, “just steal them from an armory.” 

“And where are we going to find an armory?” 

“Where is Sabine when you need her?” murmured Kanan.

Leia turned around and waved to a lost looking officer. “Hey, you! Yes you!”

Everyone hurried to put on their helmets. The officer approached them, suspicious.

“What do you want?” 

Leia waved a hand in front of his face.

“You will tell us where the armory is.”

The officer blinked. “Huh?” 

Leia frowned. “You _will_ tell us where the armory is.”

The officer shook his head, confused. “I’m not following.”

“Ugh!" Leia was very frustrated. "Why doesn’t it work!”

Master Kenobi patted her back gently. “Patience, Leia." Then he turned to the officer and waved his hand. "Sir, _tell us where we can find the armory.”_

The officer looked lost, but he nodded. “Three floors down.” 

Kenobi smiled. “Thank you. Move along.”

“Move along…” copied him the officer, and left with clumsy steps. 

Ezra tried to hide his laughter, and Leia shot him a venomous look. 

Feeling the passage of time as a threat over their heads, they went down the three floors to the armory as quickly as possible. Another deserted floor. 

Leia took the lead and entered the armory, Ezra close behind her. It was a large room, filled from floor to ceiling with bombs, grenades, and various types of explosives. In the center, boxes and crates full of ammunition, and in the back, blasters of all kinds. 

“That’s a lot of bombs…” 

Intrigued, Ezra examined the explosives. He had seen Sabine experiment with various types of explosives, but he had never seen so many and such a top-of-the-line product. 

“Be careful!” warned him Kanan, as Ezra almost dropped a grenade on the floor. 

“Sorry…”

Kanan selected the ion bombs from the correct box and gave them to Ezra.

“Here, take these.” 

“Don’t forget the detonators!” reminded them Kenobi. 

The search for the reactor chamber was more complicated. It had to be at the center of the station and it was more heavily guarded. They had managed to avoid waves of stormtroopers by taking different routes, but time was of the essence. By the time they found the correct pathway, another half an hour had passed. 

“Over there!” signaled Ezra, when he spotted huge blast doors that lead to the reactor chamber. 

They hid behind a column, analysing the best way to proceed forward. 

“Alright,” Kanan said, “we need a distraction.” 

“I’ll do it!” jumped in Leia, and gave her bombs to her Master, who didn’t have time to stop her as she ran over the security guards. 

“Wait, Leia–”

“Hey, assholes!” she yelled, and took her helmet in front of them. “I hear you’re looking for a missing prisoner!” 

The guards interchanged a baffled look. Then, they pointed at her with their guns. 

“Go get her!” 

“Go, go, go!”

Leia ran away through the hallway, several guards hot on her toes. She even activated her lightsaber, which illuminated the entire room with a blue haze, deflecting blaster fire, and then disappeared through an intersection. The guards disappeared behind her. 

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Ezra said. 

“I swear she’s going to be the death of me…” Kenobi said while shaking his head.

The reactor chamber was one of the biggest rooms Ezra had ever seen in his life. He was sure entire Star Destroyers could fit inside of it, and with room to maneuver. How were they going to find the correct module? There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of those! 

“That’s it, that’s the one!” pointed out Kenobi. Ezra followed his line of sight and saw one particular module with a huge exhaust port, kind of like a chimney, that rose up to the ceiling and disappeared. It was the only one. 

They applied the bombs to the surface of the module, being careful to keep them away from any heat sources. The last thing they needed was a bomb detonating early. 

“Done!” Kanan said as he finished with the last bomb.

“Let’s get out of here!” 

When they returned to the hallway, Leia was already waiting for them. She looked disheveled, her hair falling out of her top bun, but she was smiling. 

“Hey guys!”

“How did you...?” 

She shrugged. “I hid in the vents. They never check the vents.” 

Kenobi sent her an unimpressed look. Her smile flickered a little. 

“Let’s go, now.”

Ezra’s energy was quickly running out. They reached the hangar where their transport was after dodging so many troopers, he was exhausted. He needed a shower, and more than anything, a good nap. 

He came to a stop when he noticed the ship they were heading towards. 

“You came in _that?”_

“Yeah,” Kanan sighed, “it wasn’t my idea.”

“Hey,” Leia protested, “you wanted a ship, I got us a ship.” 

Behind them, a squad of troopers passed through the west doors to the hangar and started shooting at them

“They’re coming! Get in!”

Kanan grabbed Ezra by the elbow and pushed him through the ship’s ramp and into the main hold. He didn’t have time to see anything, because Leia then pushed them all into the cockpit. There, sitting on the piloting chairs, were a human male and a wookie. 

“HAN, GO!” yelled Leia.

“Is everyone on board?” asked Han. “Or did you pick up any more stowaways?”

“Yes everyone is here,” she said, irritated, “GO!”

“Alright!”

Ezra tried to brace himself by grabbing the edge of the seat where Kanan was. The ship rocked as it took off from the ground and crossed the exit into deep space. 

As they accelerated, Ezra noticed a group of TIE fighters following them and shooting in their direction. 

“Shit.” 

“Go to the guns!” said Han, maneuvering away from the laser fire. 

Ezra was about to run into the guns when Leia stopped him.

“No! Just get away as far as possible.” 

Han looked at her like she was insane. She held his gaze steady, and nodded only once. Han let out a very frustrated growl, but complied. 

“Dammit, woman! Chewie, raise the shields, and all power to the engines!” 

Ezra felt like he was going to vomit as they escaped the TIEs at incredible velocity. Han had to be the best pilot in the galaxy, or the stupidest one, judging by the way he was dodging fire. And Ezra had flown with Hera for years.

“Just a little bit more…” said Leia, who had the detonator in her hands. Suddenly, Ezra understood her strategy. He braced himself even more. 

“Any moment now…” 

In a desperate maneuver, Han did a turn and hid the ship behind the belly of a massive Star Destroyer. With a knot in his stomach, Ezra recognized the ship as The _Chimera_ , Grand Admiral Thrawn’s flagship. 

“Now!” said Leia, and she pressed the detonator. 

For a moment, it seemed like nothing had happened. Then, a roaring explosion was born deep in the heart of the Death Star, and the entire station shined like a real star, blinding them for a second. 

Gigantic parts of debris flew in all directions, but their ship was shielded by the Star Destroyer in the way. Ezra watched the infernal weapon flicker out of existence, and something inside his heart broke.

The pilots punched a series of coordinates and they jumped to hyperspace. 

“I’ll call Hera…” Kanan said, the first one to get out of their stupor. “So they call off the assault…” 

And he walked out of the cockpit. Kenobi followed him without adding another word. Han turned around in his seat and pointed at Leia with his finger.

“You're crazy, you know that?" 

She crossed her arms on her chest.

"That was a planet killing weapon. It had to be like this." 

"Still…” he insisted. “Crazy."

"Stop calling me that," she replied, getting angry. 

Sensing a fight on the horizon, but not having the energy to deal with it, Ezra intervened. 

"C'mon Leia, it's not worth it."

The wookie growled at him in agreement. _"I need a drink."_

All of them got up and walked out of the cockpit and into the main hold of the ship. Ezra planned on finding the crew’s quarters and taking a long deserved nap. But before he could cross the room and explore the rest of the ship, the presence of someone standing by the holotable stopped him.

Ezra froze in place. Luke stared at him like a tooka caught in headlights. He turned to Kanan, anger rising uncontrollably.

“What is _he_ doing here?” 

Kanan turned from his conversation with Kenobi and made a face. “He helped us in getting you out.” 

But Ezra wasn’t really listening. He clenched his fists, and he advanced a couple of steps, slowly, like a predator. 

“Are you happy?”

Luke was confused. “What?”

Ezra was breathing heavily. “Are you happy now? Did you get what you wanted?”

Luke shook his head, and looked around the room, searching for an exit. 

“What are you talking about?”

Ezra kept advancing, not even blinking. From the back, he felt Kanan trying to reach him.

“Ezra–”

“Fucking Imperials,” Ezra spat out, “you’re all the same. Liars, traitors.”

At that, Leia and Kenobi stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to him. Luke’s face closed off, a cold mask taking place.

“Shut up.”

“How are they going to celebrate, huh?” Ezra prodded. “With a big ball, a banquet? Genocide is always a motive of celebration for your people.”

Luke’s face was getting red. Ezra felt a weird kind of cruel satisfaction. 

“Shut up!”

“I should kick you out of the airlock,” Ezra gritted through his teeth.

“Try it and see what happens,” Luke said, clenching his fists. 

“Ezra, please,” pleaded Kanan, “be reasonable.”

That sent him over the edge.

“REASONABLE?!” Ezra roared, “THE ENTIRETY OF LOTHAL IS NOTHING BUT ASHES AND YOU WANT ME TO BE _REASONABLE?”_ His throat ached, raw, as his screams exploded in the cargo hold. He hated how everyone was looking at him. Ezra didn’t want their pity. “I should kill you right now. You sold us out, and my people paid the price.”

Ezra’s hands were trembling as he ignited his lightsaber. From the corner of his eye he could see Han reaching for his blaster, scared of him. Adrenaline circulated through his veins like poison, and he felt cold. It was fueling him, consuming him from the inside. He was standing over a knife’s edge, and the whispers of the dark sang promises in his ears. It could be so _easy_. Jump across the room and cut him in half. It was only fair. He would be avenging his people. He could have justice. 

At that moment, he _hated_ Luke. He was standing there, in a defensive position, clothes in rags, bruised and trembling. But Ezra was not buying the misery act. Chewbacca was behind them, with his gun pointed at Luke’s back, and Ezra instinctively knew it was fruitless. They weren't a match for a trained Force user. Ezra himself hadn't been able to overpower him on their first meeting. Oh, but now he was ready. Luke didn’t have the element of surprise anymore. Ezra would strike him down, cut him piece by piece, and make him feel at least a fraction of the monumental pain he was feeling right now. This time he wouldn’t hold back. 

Before he could give a single step, Kanan stepped in front of him, hiding Luke from his view. “Ezra, _please_. You’re losing yourself to the dark. Revenge is not the Jedi way.” 

Ezra almost screamed _to hell with the Jedi way!_ but he stopped himself. Kanan was right. But it didn’t matter. What kind of pathetic Jedi was he, if he hadn’t been able to stop the destruction of his own planet? Could he ever call himself protector, peacekeeper, warrior, if he had failed the people that mattered the most? 

“I did not sell you out,” Luke said from the back of the room. “I had no idea the battle station was finished.” 

Ezra circled around Kanan and pointed at him with his lightsaber, enraged. “You’re more stupid than I thought if you expect me to believe that.”

Luke seemed offended by that. “I didn’t! I was going along with your plan! I didn’t know–”

“–That’s some bantha shit. Those stupid codes. I’m sure that was all a lie. You alerted them of our presence, and just waited for the right moment, didn’t you?” 

Luke was shaking his head, a mix between desperate and angry. 

“Ezra, _think!”_ jumped in Kanan. “They didn’t know about us until we already had the Death Star plans. Why would he let us obtain the information if he was planning to sell us out?” 

“I don’t know!!” Ezra hollered, “I don’t _care!”_

“I was arrested with you!” Luke defended himself. “Tarkin thought I was a traitor!”

“That’s just convenient for you, isn’t it?! You planned all of this. Smart, I admit it. Even Mon Mothma ate the cooperative prisoner act. But I’m not buying it anymore. You’re paying for what you did.” 

As he jumped to attack, Kanan grabbed him from the back.

“EZRA, NO!” 

Kanan wrestled with him, grabbing his arms, but Ezra managed to get himself free. As he jumped to attack, he noticed Kanan had taken his lightsaber from his hands. 

He didn’t care. He would use his fists then. 

With almost unnatural speed, Ezra leaped forward and grabbed Luke by the collar, slamming him to a wall. Luke whimpered as his head hit the wall, but quickly tried to defend himself by grabbing Eza’s arms and shoving them to the sides, away from his clothes. Ezra didn’t waste time and threw a punch that connected with Luke’s face, sending him to the ground. 

There was a second where he watched Luke curl around himself in the ground, shaking, and Ezra felt _good_. The thought terrified him. But he didn’t care. He jumped again, getting on top of him, and punched him again, this time on the mouth. 

He could hear Kanan and Leia screaming at him to stop, but Ezra didn’t want to stop. The uncontrolling rage inside of him was winning, and he was losing any grip he had on his sanity. 

Very quickly he lost control. Luke took advantage of his messy form, and that’s when Ezra lost completely. Luke kicked him on the chest, sending him away and to the ground. Luke ran on top of him like a nexu, agile and ferocious. He grabbed his fists with one hand and held them on top of his head, set a knee over Ezra’s chest, leaving him breathless, and shoved his other elbow on his throat. 

Ezra was paralyzed, and whatever he did to try and move, Luke would only apply more pressure on his throat. 

_“I did not sell you out,”_ hissed Luke, his face very close to Ezra’s, his eyes furious and determined. “I agreed to your terms, and I delivered the information you wanted. I tried to stop them, but I have no real power over the Grand Moffs.”

When Ezra didn’t answer, Luke relaxed the pressure on his throat. “I am sorry. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted anyone to get hurt.” 

Luke released him slowly and stood up. Ezra glared at him from the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Luke repeated, his voice more gentle this time. “But there's nothing I could have done.” 

Ezra stayed silent. He slowly incorporated himself, and sat on the ground. He watched as Leia approached Luke slowly, and gently offered him to tend to his wounds. They exited the main hold, Kenobi close behind them. 

Han and Chewie awkwardly left to the cockpit, murmuring something about keeping check on their course. 

Ezra stayed on the ground, watched his hands and they trembled. He had blood on his knuckles, probably from where he had hit Luke. A wave of regret washed over him, and Ezra covered his face with his hands. 

He could feel Kanan approaching him slowly, carefully, like one would approach a rabid animal. He felt him kneel beside him, and then set a hand on his shoulder. 

"Ezra…"

Something about Kanan's gentle voice brought him to tears. 

"I'm sorry," he cried, "I don't know what came over me, I–" 

His voice cracked and Ezra doubled over himself, his chest breaking out in sobs. 

"It's ok," was all Kanan said, and he hugged him, bringing Ezra's head to his chest. He held him close and let him cry endlessly, until he had nothing else to cry. "You're ok. We're going to be ok." 

It wasn't. Not really. But Ezra let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, Kanan –his Master, the man who he thought of as a second father– could make everything ok again. 

***

On the other side of the Galaxy, a star collapsed in on itself. It had been dying for decades now. Its birth had been tumultuous and chaotic, and life as one of the largest and brightest stars in its sector had been surrounded by glory. In its youth, the burning blue light had been a beacon of hope for those who lived inside its gravity field. But in time, burning so hot and brightly had come with a cost. The internal balance between the forces of pressure –nuclear fusion and its own gravity– had been broken when it ran out of fuel and its heart had become iron. Death had been slow, as the star desperately grew millions of kilometers in size and burned a furious hot red, destroying everything on its path, including the planets that peacefully orbited it. It had been like this for decades, slowly expanding and losing gas to burn. Only a few modest planets had remained, those whose orbits were the farthest away from its flame, and in one of them, life had sparked timidly on the surface. 

But something had changed. Something sparked a reaction, and the star collapsed. In a fraction of a second, the entire mass of the red supergiant collapsed on its nucleus, building up the pressure of millions of tons of gas on the center of gravity. But the nucleus was iron plasma. It wouldn’t budge. The numerous layers of gas bounced against the surface of the nucleus in a painful unimaginable pressure and the star _exploded._

It destroyed everything on its path. Not a single planet, asteroid, comet, or moon remained. The solar neighborhood was blinded by the supernova that cried out in agony as it died. The light was brighter than anything the Galaxy had ever witnessed. And then, it was gone. 

The nucleus was destroyed. The pressure had been so titanically huge that it had collapsed and transformed into something beyond comprehension. At the center of what once had been a bright and prideful star, there was a black hole. 

Dark, poisonous agony and desolation. A place so cold, so unnatural, space itself was bended and twisted at its will. 

Darth Vader cried, for the first time in twenty years, as the black hole at the center of his heart settled in place. Not a single soul survived the explosive wave of his agony. He stood alone in the bridge of his Star Destroyer, staring out into black space, incapable of comprehending the words that the messenger had sent them.

The Death Star had been destroyed. There were no survivors.

Luke was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) 
> 
> please scream at me in the comments!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> Sorry for the long delay. Honestly speaking the state of the world hasn't been kind to my motivation to write -something I feel we can all relate to, lol-.  
> I'm also at the end of the semester so Uni has me hostage until 2021, *sigh*. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter!

Luke was exhausted. He didn't remember the last time he had slept for more than an hour. His body was trembling, wearing off the adrenaline of the fight, and he felt like he was going to collapse. 

Leia and the old man guided him to the ship's quarters, where he sat heavily in the first surface he could find, which was an empty metal crate. The old man, also visibly tired but retaining his dignity, sat carefully on the end of the bunk. 

"Are you alright?" asked Leia with more gentleness than Luke probably deserved. 

Luke nodded slowly. His head was killing him, and he didn't feel like verbalizing his thoughts. 

She might have read him easily, because Leia didn't press for an answer. Instead, she rummaged through the room's cabinets and took out several things. She handed the old man a bottle of water, who thanked her in a low voice, and then she walked towards Luke with a medkit in hand. 

As she cleaned his bloody nose and put a small bacta patch over his split lip, Luke observed her closely. There was something familiar about her face, her mannerisms, but he couldn't place where the feeling was coming from. Even her signature in the Force felt familiar, but Luke was sure he would remember ever meeting a Jedi apprentice like her. Like a faint feeling of dejá vu, she was a mystery to him.

"Something on my face?" Leia asked, amused. Luke immediately looked away, embarrassed at being caught staring. 

He decided it was better to tackle the mystery head on. 

"Do I know you from somewhere?" 

She raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you hit your head too hard. We met aboard the battle station, you were running from stormtroopers…?" 

Luke smiled, and then winced when his lip stinged painfully. 

"No, I know that. I mean before…" he trailed off, losing confidence. 

She finished cleaning his wounds and sat back, studying him. 

"I think I would remember ever meeting the Imperial Prince," she said and turned to exchange a glance with the old man. Luke imagined he was missing on an internal joke.

Leia turned her attention back to him. "But you're right to feel a connection, we're not complete strangers." 

At that, Luke was intrigued. "Aren't you?"

She shook her head. "No. My uncle Ben here," she signaled behind her to the old man, who quickly incorporated himself with alarm, "he says he and my father were friends with your mother back in the Clone War.”

Luke observed as the man froze in place for a second, and then slowly sat back down.

“Oh really?" Luke asked, and faced back to a smiling Leia. "And who were they?”

The old man tried to intervene. “Leia–” 

“Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she revealed. 

At first, Luke thought it might be a joke. He stared at Leia’s cheerful expression, her honesty shining through. As the seconds passed, cool dread settled at the base of his stomach. Luke frowned, remembering her words when they had first met in that hallway. _I’m Leia Skywalker and I’m here to rescue you!_ In the middle of the chaos, he had paid little attention to her name. He had recognized it of course, it wasn't a very common name, but in a galaxy so big and with the dozen of trillions of beings that lived in it, he imagined there was more than one family with that name. Especially considering that they didn’t know about their origins beyond grandma Shmi, since she had been separated from her family and sold into slavery as a child. And that was about all the information his father had ever given him… 

His father. Darth Vader, formerly known as Anakin Skywalker. The name that was on his parent’s marriage certificate. The name that he had refused to give Luke, insisting on honoring his mother instead. The name that Leia claimed was _her_ father’s. 

It couldn’t be. He was an only child, he always had been. His mother had died the same day he had been born, and they hadn’t had children before him. His father had said so… But as it had been evident in the last few days, his father hadn’t been honest with him about a lot of things. Maybe this was one more to add to the list. 

And Leia.... as Luke stared at her, dumbfounded, the familiarity he sensed clicked into place. She looked like Padmé. They weren’t identical, Leia had higher cheekbones, her eyes were a lot rounder, and her eyebrows had a completely different shape. But the basic face structure was the same. The eye color, the hair, the short stature. Everything about her reminded Luke of the endless recordings he had studied of his mother’s speeches. It reminded her of Aunt Sola and his cousins back on Naboo. The resemblance was undeniable. 

As he reached this conclusion, Luke processed the other part of what Leia had said. The old man behind them was her Uncle Ben, and none less than Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

Luke turned his face sharply to the old man, who looked close to panic. _Kenobi._ The betrayer. The man responsible for his father's extensive injuries. The man responsible for his mother's passing. The one who had taken everything from them, and now _his sister_ as well.

Something dark and furious grew inside of Luke, but before he could say a single word, the man moved his head from left to right slowly. He looked pointedly at Leia, who was growing confused by his silence, and then back at Luke with a pleading expression. 

She didn’t know. 

Leia was clearly proud to be the daughter of a Jedi Knight, and was happy to meet the son of Padmé based solely on the fact that she had been “friends” with her father. But she had no idea who Padmé was to her what or what that made them. 

Exhaling slowly to regain his composure, Luke turned back to Leia. 

“That’s good to know.”

Leia inclined her head to the side, intrigued by his odd reaction, but she didn’t press the issue. Behind her, Luke watched Kenobi let out a silent sigh of relief.

It was difficult, but Luke managed not to lash out at him. 

“Leia, dear, could you bring me a little more water?” asked Kenobi with a soft and trembling voice. Luke had to admit, the man was a very good actor.

“Of course!” 

Leia walked back to him and took the empty water bottle from his hands. She nodded to Luke on her way out. “I’ll be back in a bit with some ice for you.” 

When the door closed behind her, Luke glared at Kenobi. 

“I’m gathering that she doesn’t know.” 

Kenobi dropped the old and defenceless act immediately, his expression changing to a careful and calculating one. 

“No, she doesn't.”

She wouldn't have told him who they were otherwise. To what extent Leia was ignorant of the truth, he didn't know. 

Luke crossed his arms, barely repressing his fury. “Does she even know who our mother was?”

At that, the man at least had the decency to look a little guilty. 

“No.”

Of course she didn’t. “Why haven’t you told her? She knows about Anakin, why–?”

“Because of _you_ ,” Kenobi answered, cutting him off. “I had to keep her safe, and you are a very public figure.”

Luke’s hands felt cold, his circulation running slow and dense, like petroleum instead of blood. That wasn't fair. It's not like Luke had chosen to be Prince. 

“You had no right.” 

“I’ve kept her safe,” Kenobi repeated. “If Vader ever got his hands on her…”

“What?” spat out Luke, growing angrier by the second. “You think he would harm his own child?”

Kenobi felt silent. He sent him a sad look, his eyes seeing right through him. Luke felt exposed, like this man could read him from the inside out, and he hated what he was implying with his silence. 

It felt like a century until Kenobi spoke again. 

“I feared Sidious would find her,” he admitted. “What he would do if he had you both.” 

It wasn’t _fair._ The Emperor was… a complicated man. He accepted nothing but the best from everyone. He didn’t give second chances. He had provided Luke with the best education available in the galaxy, and expected perfection in return. He had instructed his father to train him in combat and in the Force, but he had strictly forbidden him from getting advanced Sith training. Luke knew that time would come when he would serve Sidious as his apprentice. Would Leia being there have changed anything? 

Luke didn’t have time to think of a reply as Leia entered the room again. She had an ice pack wrapped inside a cloth which she extended to Luke, who took it carefully from her hands. 

“I went to the cockpit and talked to Kanan, apparently we’re going to Yavin?” she sat down beside Kenobi, who had softened considerably in her presence. She gave him a refiled water bottle. “He was arguing with someone through the comms and they mentioned you, Luke.”

Luke straightened his back and smiled bitterly. 

“Because I’m a prisoner again.”

Leia frowned, and she shook her head thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so. Kanan was insistent that you’re here on your own free will.”

Luke avoided her eyes as an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach. “It’s not like I had much more of a choice.” 

But Leia smiled at him knowingly. “You had plenty of choices. Be proud of the ones you have taken.”

Luke wished he could see it that simply. She was so confident with her words, so sure of herself. He envied her. Every step he ever took he had to think twice. Every word was carefully chosen and deliberated. Every aspect of himself, from his appearance to his choices was displayed as entertainment. He understood the importance of his image while being the public face of the Empire. He just wished he had been allowed a little more freedom. 

It wasn’t fair that he and Leia had been separated. Luke was seething with anger at this new revelation. He didn’t even know how old she was. Was she the older or the younger sibling? Were they twins? That wouldn’t be so unlikely, his Father had said he hadn't been able to be there when he was born, being under long surgery himself. The possibility that they had been separated at birth was too painful to imagine. 

Where had she been all these years? Training as a Jedi, being raised by Kenobi, a traitor? Her birthright had been denied. She should be a Princess, a ruler, maybe even Empress one day. 

Would all that confidence be there if she hadn’t been raised away from them? What if she had ended up like him, afraid of every misstep, resorting to lies and cowardly retreats as a means of escape? 

Someone knocked on the door, startling them. 

“Come in!” answered Leia, turning to face the door. Kanan’s face appeared through the frame.

“I made some food,” Kanan offered, “if you’re interested.” 

Leia jumped up from her seat. “Yes, I’m _starving!”_

Kanan smiled and gestured to her to follow him outside. She threw a wink in Luke’s direction before disappearing through the door, which almost tempted him to smile. He was hesitant to join them, not wanting to cause another disturbance like that disaster with Ezra. Before he could make a decision, Kenobi called his attention. 

“Please don’t tell her.” 

Luke froze in place, almost surprised by the audacity of the old man. He turned to focus on him, laser sharp, wishing nothing more than to leave and not deal with this issue. 

He stalled his answer out of spite, more than anything else.

“I’m not telling her.” 

Kenobi visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping. 

“Thank you,” he said almost breathlessly, “that’s–”

“–I’m not doing it for you, _Kenobi,”_ Luke spat out his name like it was venom. “I’m doing it because she doesn't deserve all of this. When she finds out, she can have the choice I didn’t have.”

At that, Kenobi didn’t say anything. Luke wasn’t going to be the one to break her heart. She had been lied to, and she deserved the truth, but Luke wasn’t going to fix other people’s mistakes. 

“Besides,” he added as he rose up from the crate and walked towards the door, “if she’s half as smart as our mother was, she’ll figure it out on her own.” 

Kenobi smiled, full of melancholy, but his eyes betrayed the fear that idea brought him. Luke was already out of the door when he heard him speak with a voice that sounded like a thousand years of wisdom:

“You still have a choice.” 

Clenching his fists, Luke closed his eyes for an instant, boiling with anger. 

“You know nothing about me,” he hissed through his teeth, and marched off in the direction of the kitchen. 

***

It was a cloudy day on the jungle moon of Yavin, but it didn't seem like it would rain soon. The atmosphere normally had a really high humidity, and the rain cycle was too long to keep track of. As the _Millenium Falcon_ descended through the clouds, Kanan sensed as the ancient temple that the Alliance used as a base grew closer. 

It surprised Kanan the amount of people he was sensing waiting for them in the hangar. He had expected Hera –and maybe Sabine and Zeb– to wait for them upon their return, but almost a hundred people were gathered outside of the entrance of the base, between all the ships parked on the tarmac. News travelled fast between the Rebels, but he hadn't expected such an audience. 

Han and Chewbacca parked the ship in the small clearing left available, right next to the _Ghost._ Kanan didn't waste a second and let the Force guide him outside of the ship as the landing ramp descended. He felt Ezra fall in close step behind him, and he reached out to him in reassurance. Ezra was uncharacteristically quiet and still, but it was more than understandable given the circumstances. 

They quickly spotted Zeb standing tall above the rest of the crowd. Kanan sensed Hera running in their direction, people moving out of the way to let their General pass. 

Ezra let out a small _oof_ when Hera jumped and wrapped him strongly with her arms. It had been a couple of years since Ezra had grown taller than her, but that didn't stop her from hugging him so tightly he was raised a few centimeters from the ground. Ezra returned the embrace with quiet desperation, hiding his face on her neck.

"I'm so glad you're safe, kiddo," Hera told him as she slowly let him go and framed his face with gentle hands. Then she stepped into her tiptoes to reach his forehead and place there a motherly kiss. 

Only when Ezra gave her a timid smile she let him go. Kanan almost didn't have a warning as he was enveloped in a ferocious hug as well. 

Kanan closed his eyes and embraced Hera closer to him. After the neverending adrenaline of the last few days, holding her close like this felt like a miracle. She was bright, brighter than she had ever been, her presence in the Force shining like a shooting star. 

Around them, people were celebrating. Cheers and laughs, loud conversations full with energy, even the sound of bottles being opened. Kanan broke the hug and raised an eyebrow in silent questioning. 

“They’re celebrating that you destroyed it,” Hera informed him. Then she threw in a teasing smile. “I even heard talks of a promotion.” 

Kanan grimaced awkwardly. “Uh, I don’t think–”

She laughed at his expense. “Not you, silly. For Ezra.” 

That made a lot more sense. But Kanan wasn’t sure how well the kid would take to such news.

Speaking of Ezra, Kanan watched as Rex appeared seemingly out of nowhere and grabbed him in a hug. Ezra patted him in the back a few times, looking uncomfortable.

“We heard about Lothal, kid,” Rex said as he let him go. “I’m so sorry.”

Ezra blinked a few times and pushed his lips together. Kanan could sense that he was fighting hard to remain calm. Probably sensing the same thing, Hera wrapped an arm around Ezra’s waist and walked him away from the crowd.

“C’mon honey, let’s go somewhere more quiet.” 

Kanan sighed sadly, feeling them walk away. 

“Is he going to be alright?” asked Rex in a worried tone.

It was incredibly easy for him to imagine the kind of pain Ezra was going through. Kanan hadn’t lost his home planet, but he had lost the Jedi Order, his Master, Grandmaster, and the place he used to call home. A wound so big, so painful, it would take years to heal. 

“In time.”

A sound behind them startled them both. They turned to see Leia and Master Kenobi descending down the ramp, looking around confused. Kanan felt Rex tensing up to attention beside him. 

“General?!” 

Kenobi walked down the last steps of the ramp and frowned. Then, understanding washed down his expression. 

“Rex...?” he asked, incredulous.

The old clone moved to advance towards Kenobi with a beaming smile, only to stop short when the Jedi Master took a step back. Kanan watched as the old Master reached back with an arm and moved Leia behind him, shielding her with his body. 

Understanding his fear more than anyone else could, Kanan put a firm hand on Rex’s shoulder. 

“It’s ok, Master Kenobi,” said Kanan, projecting memories of battles fought and won by Rex’s side. The countless times the clone had saved him and his family. “I trust him.” 

It took a couple of seconds, but Kenobi relaxed a little. He stared at Rex for a long minute, and Kanan felt him reaching out through the Force, studying Rex, trying to read his true intentions. Then he opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Leia coming around to them, a polite but firm smile on her face.

“Hi there!” she said, looking around the hangar. “Not that I don’t enjoy a party, but why is everyone celebrating so much?”

Rex turned to her with a curious look. “The destruction of that blasted Death Star! We’ve been on the good fight for _years_ and finally struck a serious blow to the Imps. Who are you, little lady?” 

Leia crossed her arms, annoyed.

“She helped us rescue Ezra,” said Kanan, “and to blow that station back to Stih Hells.”

Rex nodded approvingly. Smiling almost mischievously, Kenobi set a hand on Leia’s shoulder. 

“Captain Rex, let me introduce you to Leia Skywalker,” he declared, and Kanan was sure Rex’s eyes would jump out of its sockets, “my niece, and Padawan learner.” 

  
***

It was almost half an hour later when Luke dared to step outside of the ship. Everyone had already left, either to the interior of the base or inside their ships. A few people remained on the tarmac, cleaning up the mess left behind by the spontaneous party or fixing up the gear scattered around. Even Han and Chewbacca had left the ship, dragged along by Leia and her unstoppable will. 

When he descended the ramp of the _Falcon,_ he was surprised to find Kanan standing there, waiting for him.

“Hey there,” Kanan greeted him, his white eyes looking in the general direction of Luke’s face. How long had he been standing there, waiting for Luke to get over his self-consciousness? 

“Hi,” answered Luke, feeling stupid. But Kanan didn’t call him out for hiding in the ship, rather, he offered him a smile. 

“Senator Organa has asked to speak with you. He’s in a meeting with the Council right now, so I’m here to take you to a comfortable room to wait for him.” 

A comfortable room. Right. 

It would be an upgrade from the cell where they had thrown him in the first time around, at least. 

“Do I have to?” 

Kanan chuckeld. “You’re not obligated to anything, Luke. But I suggest you hear what he has to say.” 

Well, he was already deep enough in this. Why not. 

Luke felt incredibly exposed as he walked through the hangar and then the corridors of the base. He maintained his eyes in the front as he followed behind Kanan, chin up, shoulders back, _show no weakness._ Even if his sad appearance –his beat up face and his torn up clothes– were transparent enough. He could feel eyes in the back of his neck, whisperers following him around, and Luke did his best to ignore them. 

They reached a small corridor with four similar looking doors, of which Kanan opened the first one. Inside was a modestly spacious room, with a bunk, a footlocker at the bottom, a desk, a chair, and another door which Luke guessed led to the ‘fresher. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” said Kanan, as Luke entered the room and sat on the side of the bunk. “The Senator said he will be here in about twenty minutes.” 

Luke nodded in acknowledgment, and Kanan left the room.

***

The Council room doors closed as the rest of the representatives made their exit. Only Senator Mon Mothma remained in her chair, studying the data panels with close attention. 

Bail Organa was standing by the other end of the table, thinking about how to approach the conversation. He finally decided that head on would be the best alternative, and spare them both the small talk. 

“Have you thought about Kanan’s proposal?” 

Senator Mothma tore her eyes away from the screen to face him and pursed her lips together. She shook her head impassively. 

“It’s dangerous, Bail. He’s a loose cannon now.” 

That wasn’t a good start. Bail crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Kanan said he could–”

“–It’s insane,” she cut him. 

Bail took a deep breath, arming himself with patience. 

“It’s not. He knows how to deal with….” he trailed off, struggling to find the correct words to describe the young Prince.

“...troubled teenagers?” Mon asked with a raised eyebrow.

Bail laughed. “He’s hardly a teenager.”

“Troubled young adult then,” she sighed. She collected the datapads that needed review from the table and rose to her feet. “He’s still very dangerous.” 

Bail wasn’t going to give up so easily. “He’s the same age Pamdé was when she became a Senator. She was dangerous as well.” 

That caught her attention. She shot him a severe look.

“Not in the same way. He wasn't raised by Padmé, he was raised by a monster.” 

Bail sighed, tired. It had been a hard couple of weeks for them. Several sleepless nights. 

“Yes. But we have yet to see him act like Vader,” he argued. “And he has Padmé’s name, not Vader’s.” 

Her expression didn’t change. “I fail to see how that's relevant.”

Appealing to the old pain of losing a mutual friend wouldn’t work. Bail hid his frustration by doubling down. “It has to be important to him. What Padmé stood for. What she believed in.” 

Mon didn’t respond right away. She studied him with her intelligent gaze, analyzing him. Bail was sure she could read him very easily, they’ve known each other for decades now.. 

“You’ve given great thought to this,” she concluded.

He had. Bail would be lying to himself if he denied how desperately he wanted Luke to take the opportunity. The weight of his failure on Polis Massa, the loss of the baby that could have been safe with him and Breha was something he would carry around forever. But now he had a chance to help him, not the son he could have had, but the man he had become. He had the opportunity to guide him to the right path. 

But those reasons were personal. And personal reasons didn’t have place when taking decisions for the good of the Alliance. 

“He could be useful, in the long run. It could be easier to convince the young new Emperor to reopen the Senate and slowly transition back to a democratic state rather than to re-establish it completely by force, with all the Empire’s military force against us.” 

Mon was taken aback. "That's a wild guess at most."

"He's already done so much for this cause,” argued Bail, “even if he doesn't realize it yet. I think we owe him at least the second chance nobody else is going to give him." 

She studied him again, thoughtful. “You’ve already made up your mind.” 

“Yes,” he admitted. 

Mon sighed. “Just tell General Syndulla to keep me informed.” 

A slow smile grew on Bail’s face.

"Of course."

She was already halfway through the door when she continued. “We don’t know if he will even want to stay.”

“The son of Padmé Amidala backing down from a challenge?” Bail said. “I will be genuinely surprised if he says no.” 

  
***  
  


Luke was considering the idea of taking a nap when the door to the room opened. Startled, he straightened his posture and faced Senator Bail Organa, looking regal as ever, as he entered the room.

“Am I a prisoner?” Luke asked right away, crossing his arms around his chest. He was cold, he realised. His white uniform, now ragged and burnt around the edges, was doing a poor job of keeping him warm. 

Organa observed him with sharp, intelligent eyes, but nothing about his expression revealed his intentions. A good politician never revealed all his cards at once.

“No," he answered as he sat on a comfortable armchair in front of Luke. "Kanan told me what happened. You helped them rescue Commander Bridger.” 

Luke avoided his eyes. 

“I only gave him back his lightsaber.”

The Senator smiled discreetly. “I think you did more than you’re willing to admit.”

Luke felt exposed in a way he had never felt before. Like losing control of his ship when flying through rocky mountains, spinning out of control. 

“It’s ok," Organa continued, "I’m not interested in pressuring you.” 

Closing his eyes, Luke let out a long exhale. He wasn't in the mood for games.

“What do you want?” 

The Senator didn’t answer him right away. He searched for something inside his garments and extracted a small holoprojector. He set it delicately on the wooden table by the bed, and turned it on. 

“Have you seen the news?” 

A cold feeling of dread washed down his back. Luke shook his head slowly. 

“No.”

Organa hummed in affirmation. The projector flickered a couple of times and then started to play a recording. It had the date of that morning, Imperial Standard Time. Luke identified the logo of the official HoloNews channel. Then, his own face stared back at him, dressed in regal white and gold, staring blankly at the horizon, arrogant and indifferent.

"They were very interesting this morning," Organa commented.

The image changed and Emperor Palpatine himself appeared on one half of the screen, the other half still showing Luke's official portrait. He was sitting on his throne at the Imperial Palace, alone. His old and disfigured face was half covered by a red hood, but his golden eyes were visible as they shined in the darkness. There were incredibly rare occasions when the Emperor addressed the public directly, always leaving the task to the more high profile officers. But with Tarkin gone, and his more ambitious project destroyed, Luke guessed this was a special occasion. 

When Palpatine spoke, it was with that tender, grandfatherly tone he had used so much during Luke’s childhood. The stark contrast to his terrifying appearance was unsettling. 

_"...It is with a heavy heart that I must inform all citizens of the Empire that our beloved Imperial Prince, Luke Amidala, has been the victim of a terrible Rebel attack. He was supervising a humanitarian mission to the outer rim, helping those most in need, when in an act of cowardice a terrorist group planted bombs on his flagship…"_

"They think I'm dead," Luke whispered, stunned. The Emperor’s words rumbled in his head, and he wanted to throw up. Oh Force, did this Father think he was dead? 

_"...This will not go unpunished. I am afraid I have allowed this threat to grow beyond the tolerable limits. I have paid the highest price for this mistake, and now I must grieve for my own heir, the brilliant young man who was as my grandson."_

Luke shivered, feeling his fingertips numb.

The image changed again, his face disappearing, and Palpatine's furious expression dominated the entire frame. 

_"...This Rebellion is now enemy number one of the Empire. Anyone who is or was part of it, who agrees with it, who's related to it in any way, or has ever had a thought in sympathy for it, is now an enemy of the Empire. Do not fall for the fallacy of their cause, as their principles are empty under the shadow of terror. Our Imperial forces have been tasked with the noble objective of enforcing the legitimacy of our institutions. We will fight without mercy subversive crime of any form, until its total annihilation. We will not rest until we have justice. We will not rest until we have peace."_

The recording ended abruptly. Luke stayed staring at the holoprojector, stunned. 

They thought he had been aboard the Death Star when it exploded. They had no reason to believe otherwise, Luke had been very throughout when he sliced the security systems. The only person who could testify to a possible escape would be Grand Admiral Thrawn, but _he_ had suggested the idea to him in the first place. 

The Senator picked up the holoprojector and put it inside his pocket. 

"I was invited to your funeral,” Organa spoke to Luke in a careful tone. “As a member of the Senate, attendance is mandatory. If you wish, I could take you with me and return you to the Emperor." 

_No._

That would be suicide. 

The Emperor had been extremely clear: anyone who even had a thought of sympathy for the Rebellion was now an enemy of the Empire. Luke hadn't only been sympathetic, but he had helped them directly. He was an enemy as well.

Luke dropped his eyes to the ground. “Or..?”

“...Or you could stay,” offered Organa, surprising him. Luke had already heard the offer from Kanan, but coming from the Senator made it real. 

Something twisted inside his chest, and Luke glared at him. "Is this what you wanted from the start?" 

The man didn’t respond to the aggression. He seemed sympathetic, even sad. 

"Not at all."

Luke crossed his arms. "Then what is it? I'm growing tired of your games." 

“It’s not a game,” continued Senator Organa. “You have the freedom to choose, of course.”

The freedom to choose. What a concept. Did he really? Has anyone ever really had freedom to choose? But a voice in the back of his mind reminded Luke that he had already chosen. Not when he escaped the Death Star with them, but before, the first day he had been captured. When instead of reaching out to his Father to come and rescue him, Luke had chosen to help them. The choice was already made.

 _Be proud of the choices you take,_ had said Leia. Easy for her to say. 

“If I stayed…” whispered Luke, “what are the conditions? What do you want from me?”

Nothing ever was free. Much less kindness. 

“Only one,” said Senator Organa. “And it’s non-negotiable.” 

Luke nodded, bracing himself. 

“You must train under Master Jarrus.” 

That answer took him completely by surprise. Luke frowned, confused at the absurdity of the idea. 

“I do not need training,” sputtered Luke indignantly, “much less training from a _Jedi_.” 

Luke would be almost insulted if he wasn’t so shocked. What could possibly have a Jedi to teach him? How to sit still for an hour and levitate some rocks? 

Organa sighed. “Then I’ll return you to Coruscant. I’m sure you’ll find a good explanation to give the Emperor about how we obtained the Death Star plans, how the entire security network of the station was conveniently down while we rescued a high security prisoner. And how you miraculously managed to survive–” 

“Alright!” Luke stopped him. “I get it.” 

The two remained silent while Luke spent time deliberating. He didn’t need stupid Jedi training, he had spent most of his life finesing his skills in the Force! He had bested Ezra in combat in less than a minute on their first interaction, and the recent fight had only proven Luke had the upper hand. Even if the fight had been unfair. 

But Kanan… since their first meeting, had been nothing but kind to him. Insufferable, with that holier than thou Jedi attitude, but unmistakably _kind_. It was a rare trait that didn’t come in abundance. 

And Luke was not looking forward to whatever expected him back in Imperial Center. So many things that he believed were irrefutable truths had shattered under the pressure of recent events. How could he ever go back in peace, when everyone he had trusted had lied to his face? Could he ever live down the guilt of losing an entire planet due to his negligence? 

“Fine,” Luke sighed, resigning himself to his fate. “I’m staying. But I have one condition of my own.”

Organa tilted his head to the right, not giving any ground but openly listening. 

“I expected nothing less. What are your conditions, your Highness?”

Ridiculous how only after being officially dead he decided to acknowledge Luke’s royal title. 

“Whatever _training_ the Jedi thinks I need, Kenobi stays out of it.”

If Organa was surprised by that, he didn’t show it. He nodded in silent agreement, and rose to his feet. 

“You can stay in this room if you like. I’ll arrange for someone to bring you new clothes.” 

Luke tried not to feel embarrassed at the deplorable state of his attire. 

“I’ll update the Council on this new development. Good evening, Luke.” 

The Senator smiled politely before he exited the room, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts. 

***

_Vader sat on a tiny wooden chair, crouching his massive body close to the floor as he observed the small toys floating around the room. The TIE fighter plastic model, the plush tooka doll, and the clone trooper action figures danced around in circles. In the middle of them sat a blonde baby of around two years of age, laughing delightfully as he shook his short arms up and down, making the toys clash with each other in the air._

_It was amazing to see how natural it was for Luke to reach out with the Force. Children in the crèche took years to master what seemed an afterthought for Vader's little boy. Luke had taken a while to learn to talk, having spent his entire first year of life communicating his needs and desires through their bond. It was almost like the Living Force was his true language, and Luke had to translate everything to basic before speaking._

_Vader wondered if he would have been as naturally gifted if his mother hadn't spent his early years suppressing every sign of him being different, terrified of the consequences. He didn't blame her, she had only been looking out for their safety._

_“Be careful, Luke,” warned Vader in the gentlest voice he could get out through his vocal recorder, when one of the action figures floated too close to the baby’s forehead._

_Luke turned his attention to his father, his huge crystal blue eyes shining with joy, and extended his chubby arms in his direction._

_“Up, Daddy, up!” he demanded, and the toys fell to the ground as Luke lost interest in them._

_Hating having to deny anything to his son, Vader shook his head slowly._

_“You know I can’t, little one.”_

_Luke’s lower lip started to tremble, and Vader panicked at the perspective of tears. He picked up another plush doll from the ground, a bantha that showed to be very well loved by his owner, and waved it in the air._

_His son wasn’t so easily distracted. Luke crawled the distance between them and used his father's legs as support to stand up._

_"Up!" he insisted, more firmly this time. Vader was proud his son was confident when demanding what he wanted, but his heart broke every time he had to deny him of something as simple as being held._

_"You've been sick the past few days, Luke," he reminded him, knowing full well the baby could barely understand what it meant. "It's too risky for my health."_

_Even if he didn't understand the reasons, Luke shared his father's uncanny abilities to read what feeling others projected. He couldn't understand what a compromised immune system was, but he could feel his father was sad._

_Vader watched with fondness as Luke frowned his little eyebrows together. Then he extended his little arms above his head._

_"Hug!"_

_Vader smiled behind his mask. A hug would be as bad as holding him up, but Luke had found an alternative, and Vader didn't have the strength to deny his little angel any longer._

_He kneeled on the ground and hugged his baby boy close to his chestplate, relinquishing on the warmth that Luke's presence irradiated. His son was too small to return the hug fully, and grabbed his cape by the edges with his clumsy hands._

_The consecutive weeks spent inside his hyperbaric chamber fighting off a cold with what was left of his crippled lungs were worth the precious seconds Vader got to enjoy holding his son between his arms._

What would he give to have another chance. Vader would destroy entire star systems, entire galaxies, if that meant he ever got to hold his son again. 

Standing inside Luke’s childhood room, Vader felt empty. As if all life inside of him had died with his son, extinguished in a fiery explosion. 

Losing Padmé had been hard, as hard as losing his mother had been. Vader was sure that if it hadn’t been for Luke, he wouldn’t have been able to survive the loss of his beloved wife. The child had been his very reason to live, the engine that fueled him to keep going. 

He knew that in recent years his relationship with his son hadn’t been ideal. Luke had grown resentful of his limitations, always the ambitious soul. He didn’t understand, Vader had to keep him _safe_. This exact scenario was what he had been trying to prevent, and now his worst fears had become true. 

A small squeak brought him back to reality. Vader glanced down at his feet and found the old tooka plushie he had accidentally stepped on. 

The very first toy he had given to Luke. 

If his prosthetics would allow it, Vader was sure his hands would be trembling as he grabbed the small toy from the ground. He studied it closely, with its ragged edges, dirty fabric and missing button eye, the doll was a sad sight. 

Vader brought it to his chest, pressing it against his chest plate. The toy let another faint squeak under the pressure. 

He didn’t even have a body to bury. 

They had taken _everything_ from him. Everything. But now, without a real reason to keep on living, Vader had found a new purpose. 

Revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm naming this chapter "several people have Serious Convos with Luke." Or maybe "Leia just doesn't give a shit about your fears, Obi Wan!" lol. 
> 
> Oh, a couple of things! My lovely friend Tomi made this beautiful piece of [art](https://tomicaleto.tumblr.com/post/627635416440389632/prince-luke-amidala-heir-of-the-empire) of Luke in chapter 2, and I made this [this](https://softieskywalker.tumblr.com/post/634342387828801536/the-skywalker-twins-jedi-leia-in-her-cantina) drawing of Luke and Leia as kind of concept art for the story. Check them out!
> 
> Also I changed [my tumblr](https://softieskywalker.tumblr.com/) so if you're interested, follow me there! :) 
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated. Much love everyone! We need it ♡


End file.
